The bardic stories of Ireland

— — §^^*

BAIIMC STOEIES

IRELAND.

PATRICK KENNEDY,

A 11 i.hoi- of Lt.'.uon<lnry i'i.-tions of tlio Irisli Celts," ' Tlie Banks oj : ii.' I .
•' Evcr.ii.fc, ; ii the Duffrey," *• Tiio Fireside Ptories of Iielami," ot<-.

DUBLIN :

A' (;i,.\SirAN AND GILL, UPPER SACKVILLE-STREET;

PATiUCK KENNEDY, ANaLESEA-STREET.

LONDON :

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO.; AND BURNS, GATES & CO.,

EDINBURGH; JOHN MBNZIES & CO.

187L

"^

ta*4Wi if-^^

THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

THE BAEDIC STOEIES

lEELAND.

PATRICK KENNEDY,

Author of " Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts," " The Banks of the Boro,"
" Evenings in the Duff rey," " The Fireside Stories of Ireland," etc.

DUBLIN :

MGLASHAN AND GILL, UPPER SACKVILLE-STREET ;

PATRICK KENNEDY, ANGLESEA-STREET.

LONDON :

SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO. ; AND BURNS, GATES & CO.

EDINBURGH: JOHN MENZIES & CO,

1871.

PBINTED BT BICHABD D. WBBB ABTI) SOlTj
74, MIDDLE ABBEX-ST., DUBLIN.

AX APOLOGY FOR A DEDICATION.

I WOULD have done honour to my little book and myself by placing on
this page the name of a certain noble lady, who has most generously
assisted me in my endeavours to add something to the store of Na-
tional Literature not entirely unworthy of it. I have not succeeded
in obtaining her permission, so I must content myself with here re-
cording my sincere gratitude to her. and to my other supporters of
Noble, Gentle, and Middle rank, who have taken a hearty interest in
my literary efforts. My obligations are also very great towards the
Editors of many Literary Journals in England and Ireland, who
have done aU that their conscience and judgment would allow, to
present my half dozen publications in a favourable light to the Read-
ing Public.

PATRICK KENNEDY.

Dublin, September, 1871.

PEEFACE.

The present collection consists of mere legends, of facts
invested in legendary garb, and of historic incidents. The
legends are the embodiments of pagan myths modified and
degi-aded, some few the creation of christian poets. The
invasions, changes of dynasty, etc., set down as having
occurred before the building of Emania, say 300 a.c, have
all some foundation of fact on which the bards raised a
legendary superstructure. What are now historic legends
were first related in a metrical form to assemblies in the
raths of kings and chiefs. In nearly every instance they
embodied the deeds of the ancestors of the high people then
present, or battles, or other striking events connected with
the locality, and the narrative was only moderately charged
with ornamentation ; but as the heroes and their deeds
receded farther back from the era of the minstrel, and
became consequently less interesting to the audience, he
felt it expedient to surround the substance of the tradition
with romantic or supernatural circumstances, and the
longer the Bardic institution endured, the more heavily
charged with fiction did their lays become.

In the early existence of the system, and before the minds
of the unsophisticated hearers were afiected for the worse
by dwelling on the creations of fancy, they would be as
certain to demand of the reciter if his story were true, as

an intelligent child of our or of any time is to propose
the same query to parent or nurse when something out-
side the sphere of its own experience is related. The
child's delight in a surprising story is perfected by belief
in its truth, and while he remains a child he will be
sufficiently mortified when he hears that such and such
incidents never occurred, or that his darling prince and
princess never existed. His taste becomes gradually viti-
ated by having his mind fed on the unsubstantial pabulum
of romance. A similar change took place in early society
step by step with the strengthening of the bardic influence,
and to this we owe the historic and traditionary legend.

A word on the question of the knowledge or ignorance
of letters among our pagan ancestors. Tighernach of Clon-
macnois (eleventh century), that most dry and mistrustful
of our ancient chroniclers, acknowledged that the people
of his day were in possession of rehable history from the
date of the building of Emania, 300 a.c. But if no writ-
ten records existed before the days of St. Patrick, what
confidence could the early christian historians have had in
the mere traditions, or oral-poetical accounts to which they
had access, or what grounds would Tighernach have to
assert that the events which occurred in every generation for
a lapse of seven hundred years were accurately preserved in
chronicles compile(t in the fifth century 1 The contempo-
raries of Tighernach, and those who lived a century or two
later, would have set him down as a visionary for making
such an assertion ; but from his era even to ours he is,
without an exception, considered the most trustworthy
authority for all events which occurred before his time.

One object of this little work being to amuse and in-
struct young folk, and infuse into them a wish to become
acquainted with the history of the country, we feel justified
in assuring them that the several occupations and invasions
of the country, and other remarkable events recorded down
to the building of Emania did really occur, but in a much
more prosaic fashion than that depicted by the bards.
Greater trust may be placed in all the quasi-historical or
biographical incidents succeeding this era, when the super-
natural circumstances are eliminated.

As the narratives descend from the preaching of Christi-
anity towards the conquest, the fictional element gradually
disappears, though the historical events continue to be
invested with the very spirit of romance. We have
selected these last, not for the confidence which may be
reposed in their truth, but for the romantic interest at-
tached to them. Their truth adds value and charm to
their romance, and the romance of irish history is the
end and aim of the present publication.

The Legendary Fictions, The Fireside Stories, and the pre-
sent volume furnish a tolerably ample collection of The
Fireside and Bardic Stories of Ireland.

If any square-toed sage, objecting to the number of mere
inventions here collected, and our consequent loss of time
in chronicling them, suggests the more desirable occupation
of setting before our readers unadorned historical matter,
let him take into account the plentiful supply of histories
already before the public, the general apathy of young
people towards the perusal of dry chronicles, and the pro-
bability that by the time a listless student has got to the

end of our fictions and fictitious-looking events, he or she
may be laid hold on by a desire to know more about the
genuine occurrences and the distinguished characters which
belong to Irish history.

Eeaders unaccustomed to the orthography of Gaelic names,
are instructed to pronounce the final e of every word,
whether accented in the text or not, also when he finds,
consonants crowded in a word, to give himself little trouble
about their pronunciation, and finally, never to give c or
g its soft English sound.

CONTENTS.

An Apology for a Dedication ... ... ... ... v

Preface ... ... ... ... vii

Partholanus and his People ... ... ... ... i

The Fight of the Southern Moytura ... ... ... 2

The Fight of the Northern Moytura ... ... ... 6

The Children of Tuirreann ... ... ... ... 10

The Four Swans ... ... ... ... ... 12

The Last of the Danaan Kings ... ... ... 19

How Emania was Built ... ... ... ... 26

The Courtship of Labradh Maen ... ... ... 28

Baillie and Aillinn ... ... ... ... ... 32

The Story of Fachtna ... ... ... ... 34

Episodes of the Eeign of King Conor ... ... ... 36

The Enchantment of Cuchulainn ... ... ... 55

The Youth of Moran the Just ... ... ... 57

The Prophecy of Conn Cead Cathach ... ... ... 60

The Monster in Loch Ruaighre ... ... ... 62

The Fortunes of King Cornaac ... ... ... 64

The Hill of Bellowing Oxen ... ... ... ... 74

The Treachery of Conla ... ... ... ... 93

The Disputed Claymore ... ... ... ... 95

King Cormac in Fairy Land ... ... ... ... 99

Cliona of Munster ... ... ... ... ... 103

The First Lap-Dog that came to Erinn ... ... 1 1 1

The Origin of Aileach ... ... ... ... 1 14

The Quick-Beam Fort ... ... ... ... 117

The Churl in the Grey Coat ... ... ... ... 126

The Fight of Cnoc an Air ... ... ... ... 128

The Fians at the House of Cuana ... ... ... 132

The Fortunes of Diarmuidh and Grainne ... ... 135

Oisin in Tir na-n-Oge

The Amadhan Mor ...

The Adventures of Conall Gulban

Death of Niall, and a Household Mystery

The Fate of Breacan...

How it Fared with the Chief of Castle Knoc

St. Patrick's First Visit to Dublin

How Armagh Cathedral was begun

Death of Milcho

The Thievish Glutton .

The Princesses at the Well

St. Brigid's Charity ...

TheBUndNun

The Amhra of Colum CiUe

The Legend of St. Efflamm ...

Legend of the Cathach

The Voyage of St. Brendan ...

Some of King Guaird's Doings

The Eoad of the Dishes

The Chastisement of the Bards

The Desertion of Tara

How Brandubh saved Leinster

The Fight at Moyra ...

The Death of the Wicked Thorgils

The Fortimes of Queen Gormflaith

The Fight in Dundalk Bay ...

The Leinster Cow-Tribute

The War- Path to Clontarf

The Last Lord of Cappa

The Legend of Mac Corish

Glossary

THE BAEDIC STOEIES OE lEELAND.

PARTHOLANUS AND HIS PEOPLE.

Some three hundred years after the flood, Partholan (pr.
Parrolaun), an exile from Migdonia (Macedonia?) in Greece,
on account of the crime of parricide, landed in Inver Sceine
(Kenmare River), accompanied by his wife, his three sons,
and their wives, and a thousand soldiers. Partholan's fa-
vourite residence was at Inis Samerin Lough Erne. It got
that name, meaning Samer's Island, from his wife's grey-
hound, which he killed in revenge for her infidelity, a shabby
and unjust instance of retaliation. It is gratifying to think
that Irishwomen in general have not followed the evil ex-
ample of this early bean thierna of our country. Partholan
died thirty years after his arrival, at Moynealta (Plain of
Birds) in Meath. His sons divided the fertile island be-
tween them, and there is little recorded of the deeds of
themselves and their people for three hundred years ; the
chief occurrences during the time being the bursting out of
lakes and rivers. To weaken our confidence in the cer-
tainty of this early settlement, we are told that at the period
last mentioned, the whole colony being settled between
Howth (Ben Edair) and the Dublin hills, all were swept
off by a plague. The present village of Tallaght {Tam
Leacht^ Plague Monument) is said to have got its name
from this circumstance. The ancient writers called it
Tamleacht Muintir Parthal.in, "The Plague Monument of
Partholan's People,'' to distinguish it from other plague
cemeteries through the country.

The voyage of Fintan and his wife Cesdra from Mesopotamia, their
landing in the West of Ireland some short time before the flood, Cesara s
tragic death, and Fintan's preservation to the time of St. Patrick,
should have preceded this historic tradition, but they have been
related already in Lejendmy Fictions of the Irish Celts.

I

THE FIGHT OF THE SOUTHERN MOYTURA.

Thirty years after the destruction of Partlaolan's colony,
2^emid, a hardy adventurer from the borders of the Black
Sea, proceeded westwards across Europe. He probably
obeyed the directions of some oracle in not making any
stay till, crossing the two seas in thirty skiffs of some kind,
he reached the " Wooded Isle." Our old northern city,
Armagh, is said to have taken its name from his wife ; a
doubtful tradition, as the word simply signifies " High
Field." ^N'emid brought one thousand followers into the
island. He seems to have been an ambitious and unscru-
pulous chief, for he employed four artificers of the Fomorian
(African) race to build him four castles in the four quarters
of the island ; and in order that no contemporary chief or
king should possess piles of equal magnificence, he had the
poor fellows murdered on the completion of their work.
The names of the hapless gobans have been preserved —
Eog, Eobog, Eodin, and Kooney.

A blessing could not attend on such a vile deed. Their
relatives and tribes generally gathered to the island in their
long galleys ; they selected Torry island in the bleak nor-
thern sea as their rendezvous, and thence poured their
hordes down on the thinly-inhabited land. If Nemid was
deficient in a sound moral sense, he had no lack of animal
courage. He engaged and defeated them in pitched battles
in Ulster, Conacht, and Munster ; but Leinster proved fatal
to him and his people. There he lost his life, and his peo-
ple their liberty.

Severe was the slavery in which the Nemedians were
held by these Fomorach, who are represented as savage and
ogreish in their disposition. A woman was appointed their
income-tax collector, on the ground that no man can be so
bad as a bad woman — other things being equal. She obli-
ged every I^emedian family in the island to bring to an
appointed spot near the shore of Loch Erne, on the festival
of Samhuin (End of Summer, 31 Oct.) three measures of
cream, three measures of wheat, and three of butter.

Their burdens becoming intolerable, the oppressed race
uprose to a man against their tyrant rulers, attacked them

THE FIGHT OF THE SOUTHERN MOTTURA. ,3

in their stronghold in Tor Inis (Island of tlie Tower, Torry
Island), and killed them nearly to a man. However, an
absent Fomorach. chief, returning with the crews of twenty-
five galleys, assailed the victors, and so deadly and deter-
mined was the struggle on the strand, that neither party
paid attention to the rising of the tide, till numbers on both
sides were swept away in the strong rush of the waves.

Some of the Nemedians, under the command of Jarvan,
sailed away in their wicker vessels, and passing among the
western isles, afterwards called the Hebrides (Isles of St.
Brigid), rounded the northern extremity of Caledonia and
gained the southern coast of Sweden and the flat woody
isles of Jutland. They announced to the natives that they
were skilled in all the mysteries of the occult sciences,
and would open colleges for general instruction. They
were granted four cities, whose sites in this nineteenth cen-
tury are not known, but whose names were Fahas, Gorias,
Finnias, and Murias.

After a couple of centuries of the exercise of their talents
in teachmg magic and divination, the whole of the race
suddenly felt a wish to return to the land of woods, of sunny
hills, of clear lakes and rivers, and of green plains, the
memory of which had been vividly preserved for five gene-
rations. Accordingly they got into their galleys, and made
their way west and south, bringing with them a magic
spear, a magic sword, a magic cauldron, and a magic Lia
Fail or stone of destiny — a gift from every one of their
cities. They came in sight of the mighty giant pillars of
the Northern coast, and still steering south-west, found
shelter in the waters of Lough Foyle.

After the fatal fight at Torry, another party of the Ne-
medians had made their way from promontory to promon-
tory, till they reached the remote land of Greece. They
found people there speaking a dialect of their own tongue,
and at first showing them kindness ; but this state of things
was soon changed. They were reduced to the rank of serfs,
and where barren hills occurred, they were obliged to carry
soil up to their tops in leathern sacks, and hence the name
Flrbolg (bag-men), which their descendants have ever since
borne. Their condition becoming insupportable, they as-

4 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND,

sembled, seized on the ships of their cruel taskmasters, and
sought again the Western Isle, under the command of the
five leaders, Slainge, Euaighre (Eory), Gann, Gannan, and
Seangan. JEverything about our early ancestors was mar-
vellous. These chiefs landed in the mouths of live rivers,
none of which is necessary to be here mentioned, except
our own darling Slaney, into the bay at whose mouth steered
Slainge and his craft. All the chiefs proceeding inland,
met in the fertile plain of Bregia, overawed or subdued the
descendants of the ill-conditioned Fomorians, took posses-
sion of some lioses, built others, cultivated the land, kept
might}'" herds of cattle, concluded marriages, and thanked
the heavenlj'- host and the local deities that their bitter
bondage was passed, and that they had a fruitful island to
inhabit, where they might live in freedom, subject only to
such laws as had been handed down from father to son
among their ollamhs for the general good of the community.
For thirty- six years they enjoyed peace and plenty, the few
clan battles that took place not being worth mention, but
at the end of that halcyon period, say 800 a.c, they were
roused from their rest by the unwelcome visit of their kin-
dred, the Danaans, now returning from the Jutland Isles,
237 years after the ancestors of both peoples had separated
at the strand of Torry.

It -was told to King Achy (Chevalier) that a foreign peo-
ple had been discovered in the fastnesses of Magh-Eein in
Leitrim, and that they had penetrated so far from the great
northern inlet by means of a fog raised hj their skill in
occult knowledge. Calling his council together, they des-
patched Sreng, a man of singular conduct and prowess, to
ascertain the race, the country, and the present object of
these intruders.

But the Danaans at the same time had come to a simi-
lar resolution, and forwarded to Achy's Court their cham-
pion Breas. The two deputies came in sight of each other
in a short narrow defile, and the first impulse of each was
to cover his body with his red-rimmed shield, grasp one of
his s^Dears in the act of flinging, and reconnoitre bis man,

Breas was the first to speak, and Sreng was delighted to
hear his own tongue, a variety of the Gaelic, spoken by

THE FIGHT OF THE SOUTHEEN 5I0YTURA. 5

the stranger. After the exchange of a few words, they laid
down shield and spear, advanced and took hands, and then,
seating themselves on an overturned tree-trunk, began their
conference.

Each in turn related the fortunes of his own people from
the fight of Tor Inis, and then came the real business of
the moment on the carpet (grass in this instance). Breas
requested, on the part of his King ISTuadh, lialf the island.
It was sufficiently large for both peoples, and their first
care would be to enter into a strict alliance with each other,
for the common defence of the country against the Fomo-
rach and all other foreign marauders. " This," said Breas,
" will bring a great advantage to your side. Our druids
are so powerful that they have only to walk through the
ranks of slain after a fight, and by their words of power
they restore each warrior to his vigour of yesterday."
Sreng, considering this assertion a bit of boast, retorted,
"^Dar do lamh (By your hand !) O Breas, I am glad to hear
of this power in your wise men, hoping that an alliance
may ensue. But if the fight was between you and us, their
skill would be of no avail. If we fight, every horseman's
attendant kern will bring into the field a dozen pointed
stakes of the quicken tree, and as each Danaan warrior falls
dead on earth, his body shall be transpierced and fastened
to the soil by the stake of power." Breas merely shook his
head, and no more was said of draid's spell, or virtue of
mountain ash.

Sreng engaged to report the proposal to his king and
council on his return to Tara, and then, after making an
exchange of their spears — Sreng' s being heavy, sharp, and
rounded at the end, Breas' slender and finely pointed — they
separated with mutual expressions of esteem.

Achy and his council came to the resolution of refusing
the offer, and the forces on both sides moved to the unin-
cumbered plain of Moy Tuir (Plain of the Towers), near
Cong, There the fight commenced on midsummer day,
devoted to the worship of Beal (the sun), and lasted till
evening. Achy and his guard being afflicted with intole-
rable thirst, withdrew to a spring in the neighbourhood,
and thither they were followed by three Danaan chiefs.

O THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

Round the spring they struggled with intense fury, and
after the lapse of a few minutes the Firbolg King and his
three foemen lay bereft of life on the bloody grass.

Still undismayed, the Firbolgs, commanded by Sreng,
renewed the fight every morning for four days, in the last
of which he encountered the Danaan King, and by a
mighty stroke which clove his shield in two, he swept
away his hand.

A skilful Druid stopped the blood, and a skilful worker
in metals afterwards made a silver hand with articulated
fingers, secured it on the maimed limb, and the wearer is
known in the Bardic annals by the name of i^uadh Air-
geadh Lamh (Nua of the silver hand).

On the fifth mornmg the brave Sreng, finding that he
headed but three-hundred fighting men, sent a herald to
Nuadh claiming the right then universally acknowledged
among foes of the same race — of battle waged between equal
numbers on both sides. Nuadh, either influenced by re-
spect for the gallantry of his opponents, or feelings of race,
or contempt of w^hat so small a body could effect, invited
Sreng and a dozen of his best warriors to meet himself and
the same number of his own cliiefs between both camps,
and hold a conference. It was held, and an offer made by
the Danaan King of the fifth part of the kingdom w^as ac-
cepted. All of the Firbolg family through the kingdom
then repaired to Conacht, and there abode, keeping up a
good understanding with the dominant Danaans. The
Cyclopean ruins of Dun Aengus on the south-western cliffs of
Arranmore still attest their energy and skill. Down to the
reign of Conn of the Hundred Fights — second century of
the Christian era — their province was called Cuigead Sreing
(Sreng's portion). The peasantry of Conacht and neigh-
bouring portions of Ulster and Leinster at this day, are
considered the descendants of the brave and stubborn Fir-
bolgs.

THE FIGHT OF THE NOETHERN MOYTCTRA.
It being a stringent rule among each of the three races
which held Ireland in succession, that no man suffering

THE FIGHT OF THE NORTHERN MOYTURA. 7

under loss of limb or organ of sense could sway the sceptre,
Xuadh was obliged to resign office and endure a life of
privacy till his skilful surgeon, Dianceacht, could drive pain
and suffering from his mutilated limb, and his equally
skilful artificers fashion a hand of silver with which he
would be in a sense able to execute the functions of that
which he had lost.

Breas, whom we have seen discharge the duty of envoy,
ruled the kingdom as viceroy, and did all in his power to
convert the very moderate degree of authority vested in the
Celtic kings into absolute power. By various arts he con-
trived to leave but a shadow of authority to his chiefs, and
in the indispensable virtue of a monarch of old days he was
wretchedly deficient : there went abroad a homely saying
concerning him, that " the knives of his people were not
greased at his table, nor did their breath smell of his ale."

This became insupportable, and the discontent and re-
sentment of the chiefs was brought to a climax by the re-
ception the poet and satirist Cairbre, son of the poetess
Etan, received at the court. This gay professor coming to
the palace in the afternoon, was surprised to find no con-
course of chiefs or even high household officers to listen
to his recitations when the early evening meal was over.
Breas and his family took their solitary meal in private, and
the irate bard was shown to a room where w^as neither
chair, fire, nor bed, and where three small cakes placed on
a small and mean table represented the measure of Breas's
hospitality both as to food and rest. Cairbre appeared
before the household next morning, and instead of the
eulogium which would have rewarded a hospitable recep-
tion to the man of songs, he poured out invectives on Breas's
systems of poHtical and household economy, and denounced
his unworthy treatment of the bardic body by the style in
which he, its representative, had been fed and lodged.
Breas appearing at the conclusion of the poetic satire, was
surprised to find no resentment shown by his audience.
When the bitter lampoon was ended, there was a universal
clucking of tongues against palates, raising of hands and
eyes, and a sudden scattering of the auditors, each to the
scene of his proper functions. The offended viceroy would

8 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

have punished the satirist on the spot, but his hands were
held by the universal respect paid to the bardic profession.

Ill news has a swift foot. The poet directed his steps to
the lios of a neighbouring chief, and after the evening meal
he found himself surrounded by a crowd of flaiths and their
followers, and in their presence he uttered a tirade of bitter
sarcasm and contempt on the beggarly despot that ruled
them rather like slaves than men of noble birth. " Alas,"
cried one, "that the princely and generous ISTuadh is unable
to wield sword or cast lance ! otherwise to-morrow's noon
would see him restored to his throne, and the man of the
three wretched cakes driven forth." " Your loyal ^vish is
not far from fulfilment," said the owner of the fort, and at
his signal stepped from an inner room the noble Nuadh,
the hand supposed powerless vigorously grasping the shield
strap, and soon convincing the chief men in the assembly
by the gripe it took on hand and arm, that their regretted
king was again fitted to be their chief in fight as well as
council.

Breas did not await the return of IsTuadh to the royal
dun. Neither attendant nor guard staid by him when the
restoration of the king was reported, and thus deserted, he
made his way to the coast, and thence to the stronghold of
his father — a chief of the pirates — in an isle off Alba.
Though the father was a pirate, he was anything but a
niggard, and the three small cakes may be said to have
disagreed with him as much as they had done with Cairbre.
However, blood was thicker than water, and he furnished
his son with ships and men, and recommended him to the
favour of two great chiefs of their race, one being the re-
doubted Balor of the Evil Eye. So numerous were the new
allies, that their war galleys reached from an island of the
Hebrides even to the northern coast of Erinn. The forces
disembarking proceeded to an advantageous spot in Sligo,
which has since borne the same name (IVIoytura) as the
field where Breas had distinguished himself a score of years
before.

Both parties not only prepared to destroy each other
with the steel or sharp bronze, but called in the aid of
their druids and wise women. Kiug Nua had the ad van-

THE FIGHT OF THE NORTHERN MOYTURA, 9

tage of possessing two of the bravest and wisest chiefs in
the world, Liicha and Daghda. These, calhng their smiths,
their cerds (silver and brass workers), their carpenters, their
surgeons and sorcerers, their poets and their witches to-
gether, ascertained what service each could perform, and
set them to work accordingly.

Daghda knew by his druidic skill that the sorcerers of
the Fomorach had woven such spells against the arms of
the Danaans that they would be of no more avail than rot-
ten twigs in the ensuing battle. So he pronounced charms
and spells on the hands of a renowned craftsman, who
forged spears and swords as quickly as a score of men
working together could have done. The chief druid of the
Fomorach finding his charms counteracted, discovered the
cause by his knowledge of occi^Jt things, and paid a visit
to the workshop of the Danaan artist. He, beholding the
sorcerer approach, became aware by his inward sight of the
presence of a mortal foe, and made a sign to his assistant
to be on his guard. The stranger entering repeated some
words of blessing, which he counteracted at the moment
by a motion of his thumb, and then expressing his surprise
at the excellence of the workmanship, began to handle a
bunch of newly finished spears. The goban, seeming to
pay no attention to his presence, went on with his work,
and the intruder, still pretending to poise and examine a
spear, on a sudden darted it with force at his heart. But
equally quick was the eye and hand of the assistant. Before
the missile left the druid' s hand, he felt the lance of the
faithful helper tear through his neck. In a moment he
was on the floor choking in his blood, and his weapon,
diverted from its aim, c|uivering in the door-post.

At last came the day of fight, and the two forces met,
each prepared to extirpate the other wholly, or perish in the
effort. Desperately did the battle proceed, but the Danaans
were better able to meet wounds and bruises than their foes.
The skilful physician Dianceacht, his daughter Ochtriuil,
and his sons Airmedh and Mioch, had previous to the bat-
tle gathered the chief sanative herbs in Erinn from the
Lus-Magh (Plain of Herbs) in the present King's County,
and had therewith composed a medical bath, reciting in-

lO THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

cantations during and after preparation. Their wounded
men being brought to this pool of health, and immersed,
were restored to their strength of the morning, and enabled
to resume the struggle.

The fortune of the fight at last fell to the upholders of
justice, the Danaans, but their king fell by the hand of
Balor of the Evil Eye. He had but a short time to enjoy
his success. A Lia Milidh (Champion's stone), flung from
the strong hand of Lucha, crashing into his evil eye, drove
it out through the back of his head, and ended his evil
career.

Lucha of the long arm, who performed this meritorious
deed, was the next monarch of the Danaans. He wore the
crown and sceptre of Ard Eigh for forty years, and did all
in his power for his subjects' weal. Tailte, a Spanish prin-
cess, and widow of Achy, the brave Firbolg king, had super-
intended the education of Prince Lucha, and with such
judgment and good will, that he always loved her as his
mother. To commemorate her memory he instituted the
national festival at Tailtean, in Meath, to be held on every
first of August, the day of her death. Tournaments and
other martial games took place on these occasions, marriages
were agreed on, and engagements made for service.

The month was thenceforward called Lugh nas (Memo-
rial of Lucha) from the king's name, and perhaps the Eng-
lish Lammas owns the same derivation.

A thread of true history runs through these two historic legends.
Students of oiu" annals will get much information concerning the an-
tiquities of the Southern Moytara, and the certainty of a severe engage-
ment having been once fought there, from Sir WiUiam Wilde's Loiigh
Corrib.

THE CHILDREN OF TUIRREANX.

While the Danaan kings held sway, the Fomorians made
another attempt to gain possession of the country, but were
bravely opposed by a chief named Lucha. This hero
being much straightened on one occasion by the foreign
intruders, despatched his father, Cian Mac Ceinte, and his

THE CHILDREN OF TUIRREANN. 1 1

two brothers, to different parts of the island to summon aid.
Cian, passing over the plains of Louth, saw approaching him
the Firbolg brothers — Bran, Ur, and Urchorba, three of his
deadliest foes. Knowing himself to be no match for them
all, and espying some pigs on the plain near him, he struck
himself with a druidic wand, and became one with the
nighest of the animals. Bran, the most acute of the bro-
thers, alone saw what had occurred, and revealed it to the
other two : but they considered the capture of their foeman
very uncertain, owing to the number of the smne. He,
however, striking them with his druidic wand, they became
dogs on the instant, and instinctively found out the dis-
guised warrior, and gave chase. Bran launched a javelin,
which pierced the outward disguise of Cian, and so, being
rendered incapable of flight, he asked for life. Meeting a
stern refusal, he begged permission to resume his human
shape. This being granted, he exultingly enlarged on the
much greater eric they would have to pay to his redoubted
son Lucha, for slaying him in his own form rather than
in that of the swine. This did not stay their hands : they
killed him on the spot, and buried him where he fell ;
but on going forward for some distance, and looking back,
they saw the body above ground. They had to return and
inter the body twice ; but on the third occasion, the grave
having been made exceedingly deep, it troubled them no
more

After Lucha had settled the business of the Fomorians,
he became uneasy at not hearing from his father ; and re-
turning to the spot where he last parted from him, he traced
his steps like a sleuth-dog till he stood over his deep grave.
He disinterred him with a heavy heart, and paid him the
usual Celtic honours, raising a mound above his remains,
and inscribing his name and virtues in ogham on a pillar-
stone. He then took his way to the Midchuarta at Tara,
Avhere he knew the murderers had taken refuge, and in the
Ard-Eigh's presence he demanded from them the eric of
his father. They inquired the amount, and he modestly
claimed but a few easily-obtained articles, such as a spit, a
pig-skin, a chariot, a bunch of apples, a spear, three " hill-
shouts," and two or three other trifles. The king allowed

12 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

that his demands were reasonable, and decreed the eric to
be collected forthwith. Alas ! when the vengeful son re-
vealed the localities and circumstances of the different prizes,
the guilty brothers gave themselves up for lost. They con-
sulted Tuirrean, their father, who told them to ask of Lucha
the magic horse, Innhhear, given to him by his tutor, the
great Mananan, son of Lear. " He will refuse you," said
he ; " so he will be obliged by law of geasa to grant you
your next request, which must be, the magic boat of the
same mighty sage." By aid of this boat they secured, but
with a world of trouble, all the articles except the spit and
the three " hill-shouts,'' which, through Lucha's magic in-
fluence, had escaped their memory. They went on their
way again, recovered the spit in an island in the great
western sea, and gave the three shouts on a hill in Fomor-
Land, after having all been nearly wounded to death. A
spear being driven through Bran's body, he had the shaft
cut off at the two points where it projected from his sides,
and thus returned, fearing to withdraw it, lest his life should
issue forth at the same time. Even in this plight he bore
his weaker brothers along. On their return, with all their
commissions fulfilled, Lucha, who had the power, was be-
sought by king and court to stretch forth his hand and
prolong their lives. He remembered his murdered father,
refused, and they fell lifeless on the hall floor.

THE FOUR SWANS.

During the possession of our island by the people of the
Danaans, there lived in the northern part of the country
a chief named Lear, who, ha\T.ng enjoyed much happiness
in the society of his first wife, had sufficient courage to take
a second when he lost her. A heathen, he had no Christian
scruples in marrying his former wife's sister ; in fact, he
considered that in this choice he was doing the best he
could for his four motherless children, Fionula {Fion Quala,
fair shoulder), and her three brothers, Eogan, Fiachra, and
Keruagh.

THE FOUR SWANS. 1 3

For some time Eva proved a loving helpmate to Lear,
and a kind governess to his children ; but as he was never
weary of petting and fondling them, and as it had not
pleased Heaven to bless herself with offspring, she began
by degrees to disHke them, and in some time this dislike
grew into hatred. At last her annoyance became so great,
that she was unable to rise from her bed, and in that state
she dragged on a miserable life for a whole year. During
her illness she was visited by druid physicians, and in-
structed in many an unholy spell and charm, and at last
she began to recover her strength, from the hope of being
able to remove the cause of her affliction.

One day while her husband was absent, she arose and
ordered her chariot to be prepared, as she intended to pay
her father a visit, and get the benefit of change of air. She
tried once or twice on the journey to get rid of the children,
without bringing suspicion on herself ; but she was baffled
by the sagacity of Fionula ; and at last they arrived at a
lake not far from the dwelling of her father. There she
made them get down from the chariot, and all were only
too eager for the delights of a bath, Fionula excepted, who
looked with suspicion on all the movements of her step-
mother. Eva sat on the grassy bank, and after the children
had amused themselves for a while splashing about, she
beckoned them to approach her. When they had come
close alongside, she struck each with a charmed twig, and
at the moment they were changed into beautiful swans.
They still retained their consciousness ; and after a momen-
tary enjoyment of their new powers, the sense of their mis-
fortune came full upon them, and they uttered piercing
cries. She did not w^ait to listen to their lamentations, but
at once repaired to her father's house, and related, with
every sign of sorrow, that the children on passing the lake
had pressed so eagerly to be allowed to bathe that she con-
sented ; and that, getting beyond their depth, one sunk, and
the others perished in their efforts to save him. . . .

Lear being informed, on his return, of the departure of
his wife and children for the court of her father, set out
immediately on their track ; for he could not endure volun-
tary absence of a day from his darlings. As his route

14 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

lay along the edge of the lake he was struck with the
beauty of the four swans ; but who could describe the
depth of his anguish on being accosted by Fionula, and
acquainted with the transformation and miserable lot of
his beloved little ones? After giving way to a violent out-
burst of grief, he cried out :

" At least you can spend your allotted time with me in
the shadow of the trees that encircle the lake at home,
and give me the comfort of seeing and speaking to you
every day."

" Even that poor solace cannot be ours," said Fionula.
" For thirty years we must inhabit this loch, and then for
many a weary century we are doomed to the cold and stormy
waters of Moyle, that separate the northern part of this
land from the great island of Britan Maol. We are lastly
to wander on the wild and fierce waters of the West, and
not expect deliverance till the sweet bells of a holy mes-
senger of heaven shall frighten away all evil powers from
' Inis na Gloire,' in the heart of the country of the Firbolgs.
In our sorrows and sufferings, pitying heaven has given
such a charm to our voices that while we sing no listener
can feel or remember his sorrows. Till the rising of to-
morrow's sun, abide on the shore with your people, dear
unhappy father, and be your deep sorrow forgotten ! "

They began to sing, and all that were in hearing, Lear
and his train, lay down on the banks, and continued through
the quiet starry night in one ecstacy of transport. They
fancied themselves in the blissful groves of Tir-na-n-Oge,
and wished that the morning might never dawn. At sun-
rise the birds ceased their songs, and Lear, vdih desolation
in his heart, repaired to the dwelling of his wife's father.

" Dear son,'^ said the old man, " may your sorrow for your
lost darlings be consoled ! Their spirits are in the abode
of the happy ; hunger, pain, or heart-sickness shall never
come near them!"

"Alas, kind father, that comfort is not mine ! They
are four wretched birds, floating on that lake of sorrow;
and must hereafter endure the ice and rough waves and
storms of the northern seas for the years of many genera-
tions of men before their release arrives. That hapless,

THE FOUR SWANS. 1 5

guilty woman beside you, who has lain so long in my
bosom, has inflicted this mighty woe on them and on her
wretched spouse."

"I attached so much value to your affection, 0 Lear,
that I could not endure to have it shared by others."

" Guilty creature," said her father, who was a druid of
power, ** see how you have deceived yourself. Your hus-
band's hatred is now your only portion, and for ages you
must roam a frightful and odious figure through the cold
dark mists that lie on the hill-tops." So saying, he spat
in her face, and forth she flew shrieking, a wretched and
horrible-looking demon of the air.

Again Lear and his relations repaired to the borders of
the lake, and again were their spirits soothed by the sweet
songs of Fionula and her brothers. For the long space of
thirty years all the tribes of the kingdom came in succes-
sion, unyoked their chariots, reclined on the banks, and
listened to the enchanting melodies of the doomed children.
But at last the fatal day arose, and no notes but those of
lamentation could escape from them. After bewailing their
father's misery and their own, they repeated :

" We go to return no more ! Dear hapless parent, you
shall never look on us, nor we on you, till blessed Patrick
of the bells and psalms comes to deliver our country from
the dominion of demons ! May you be comforted ! AVe
return no more !"

So saying, they arose from the waters, and with wild
wailing cries they directed their course northwards. Sor-
row was strong in the hearts of all who heard their laments,
and saw them depart, and the lately-thronged and gay-
looking borders of the loch were soon left desolate.

Wliile summer remained their lives were endurable, float-
ing near the great giant pillars of the northern coasts ; but
when winter came with its long nights of storm, of ice, and
of snow-showers, painful and wretched was their existence.

And still from the loving woman's heart of Fionula came
comfort to the souls of her hapless brothers — comfort which
she herself felt not. Still they looked for their deliverance
one day ; but how long were the painful and weary years be-
fore it would arrive ! When they were scattered by storms,

l6 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

wlien their feathers were torn off, and their limhs left "bleed-
ing from rocks and ice, still would poor Fionula gather them
to her side, shelter them with her wings, and utter her
sweetest songs for their comfort.

Once before Lear's death, he heard tidings of them from
a chosen band of young knights whom he had sent round
all the coasts to search for their abiding place. When the
appointed limit of their abode in the sea of Moyle came at
length, they once more took wing and flew south-west, over
woods, over lakes, and over the rath where they once enjoy-
ed the careless life of happy childhood ; but their father and
his tribe had been lying in the narrow house of death for
centuries, and the rath was a green mound. The brave
and wise Danaans had been crushed by the iron-handed
sons of the Spanish Golav ; and the woody island was now
portioned among the decendants of his sons, Heber, Here-
mon, and Ir. Still held they on their fated course, and af-
ter a weary flight they passed the rocky barriers of the great
western waters ; they passed the islets that skirt the wild
shore, and at last rested on the heaving storiny tides that
form the "world's rim." As they sunli and rose on the long
waves, their clear eyes could distinguish, far below, the vast
mounds and buildings and altars, formed of mighty stones,
the remains of the gigantic and sinful dwellers of an ancient
Isle, overwhelmed, in remote times, for their pride and ini-
quities.

* * * * * *

After countless years of mingled content and suffering,
they were at last hemmed in by sheets of frozen water that
had drifted from the great ice-island in the ISTorth Seas.
Their poor limbs were fastened in the blocks, and even
their wings were rendered powerless by the fierce cold.

The brothers broke forth into lamentations ; but Fionula
reminded them that their woes were not to last for ever,
and that even now, perhaps, the mighty man was born A\''ho
was to bring the glad tidings to the isle. They said they
would strive for resignation ; but as the intense cold still
increased, they hoped that even feeling would be destroyed.
They were at the time in close to the islet of Inis na Gloire,
off what is now called the "Mullet," in Erris ; and at a

THE FOUR SWANS. 17

moment when their sufferings were most intense, in the pitchy
darkness a sudden light flashed on their eyes from the shore,
and the sweet music of silver bells came to their ears. At
once their misery ceased ; they found the members of their
bodies all at hberty and in a delightful state of warmth,
and they burst out into a grateful chorus of music. They
s"wam to the shore ; and after a little progress on land, tliey
found themselves before a rude stone-building, partly fash-
ioned from a cavern, a holy-looking man in white robes,
with some children, before an altar on which stood the sign
of redemption, and all employed chanting the praises of the
Eedeemer and His Blessed Mother. They only imper-
fecth' felt the meaning of the words, which had a strange
sound ; but they crossed the threshold without hesitation,
and entranced the priest and his assistants by their appear-
ance and the enchanting melody that came from their
throats in unison with the air of the Latin hymn. They
took no heed of time ; but one hymn followed another till
the neighbouring shore of the continent became visible
across the narrow strait. The sainted man, whose name
translated is Son of Young Hugh, then approached his
strange looking guests, and bestowed on them the blessing
of tlie Cross, and every kind of endearment and wishes of
hearty welcome.

So sorrow or desolation came no more near the children
of Lear. They lived with the holy man, and received his
instructions, till at last he considered them fit to be cleansed
in the water of regeneration ; but here a difficulty arose
from their outward shape, though they possessed human
souls. Meanwhile the report concerning them went far and
near, and on the Sabbath the shores of the isle were crowd-
ed, and the little bay was filled with corrachs ; and these
in the boats and those on shore all listened entranced to
the sacred songs of the saint and his assistant youths, ac-
companied by the heavenly notes of Tionula and her bro-
thers. At last the Queen of Conacht heard of their won-
drous powers, and desired her husband to send an order for
their attendance at court. The son of Young Hugh re-
quested the messengers to excuse his non-compliance. To
a second embassy he declared it was beyond his power to

2

iS THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

give up the birds ; and to a third he made answer, that
when the King of Heaven and a king of earth give opposite
orders, they might readily judge which ought to be obeyed.
The mild queen hinted to her sovereign that his duty to
his Avife and his own dignity obliged him to use force. He
replied, that he never knew luck to attend any one who
offered violence or ill language to a man of God ; and the
lady answered this remark by departing for her father's
house, near the spot where the great and good Bryan held
his court in after times.

Thrice did the poor monarch send humble messages to
his life's solace, requesting her return, and thrice the only
reply she deigned was, " Are the swans in the court of
Conacht V At last, forgetting his own wise and practical
observation, he hurried to the holy island, favoured in after
times by the presence of St. Brendan, and insisted on the
swans being given up to him forthwith. " They are sum-
moned to a higher court than thine, 0 king," said the holy
man ; " and I may not act in opposition to my Sovereign's

Then said the rash monarch to his followers, "Seize
them — gently however — and bring them along. And
you," said he to his trusty gioUa, " haste, and announce to
your lady that the present she desires awaits her in her
palace." The awed children crowded to the altar; and as
the attendants reluctantly laid hands on them, their grace-
ful forms and colours vanished, and four aged human
beings, their poor bodies and limbs covered with cloaks of
down, were seen extended on the flags. The king and his
train were seized with pity and remorse ; and poor Fionula,
raising her weak trembling voice, implored the saint to
baptize them without delay, as she felt the powers of life
fast ebbing. The poor king bustled about, hindering rather
than helping ; and in a short space their souls were as pure
as those of our first parents the day they were created.

"Dear father," then said Fionula, "lay us thus in the
consecrated ground side by side, Eogan before me, and
Fiachra and Keruagh at my back."

Her last wishes were complied with. The holy man re-
joiced on their own account at their release ; but sorely did

THE FOUR SWANS. 1 9

he miss their melodious notes when listening to the un-
trained voices of successive pupils in his choir.

The king and queen were punished for their self-will
and self-seeking. May we all avoid their faults; and when
we are disposed to be irritated by trifles, recall with profit
the sufferings and patience of the children of Lear.

These two legends, together with that of the " Children of Us-
neach," to be told farther on, compose the Tri Triugha na Sgealuiyh-
eachtha, •' The three Sorrows of Story-telling" of our bards. Moore's
charming lay, " Silent, O Moyle, be the roar of thy waters," is
founded on the present legend.

THE LAST OF THE DANAAN KINGS.

Natives of Ireland, when invited to dine at Guildhall with
the Lord Mayor of London for the first time, cannot feel
otherwise than awed by one of the grim statues that preside
over the festivities. They feel as if they were likely to
receive little welcome at the hands of such a truculent-
looking Saxon, little suspecting him to be the representa-
tive of one of their great-great ancestors ; yet so it appears
to be. Finusa, son of Baath, son of Magog, son of Japhet,
son of Xoah, was king of Scythia, a little after the building
of Babylon by Nimrod. A studious monarch he was, and
particularly devoted to the acquisition of languages, seventy-
two of which had sprung from the mad attempt at Shinaar.
As Heber, third in descent from Shem, had not consented
to the erection of the Tower of Confusion, he and his family
retained the original tongue spoken by Adam, Setb, and
Noah ; and to his neighbourhood Finusa repaired to learn,
this primal form of speech, and establish schools for the
correct teaching of those seventy- two dialects just men-
tioned. He took his son Nial as partner in this merito-
rious scheme, and at his death left him all the privileges,
honours, and profits of these establishments, committing
the unpleasant task of governing his subjects to his duller
brother.

20 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

Kial's fame, as philologist, was not less than that of his
great father -, it spread from Magh-Shinaar even to Egypt,
and he was invited by Pharaoh, the contemporary of j\Ioses,
to visit his country, and give his subjects the benefit of his
great lights and experience. There is here a trifling ana-
chronism of a few hundred years ; but the large scale on
which the bards did business did not leave them time to
examine trifles of the kind.

So pleased was the King of Egypt with the performance
and acquirements of Xial, that he gave him to wife his fair
daughter Scota, who bore a son named Gael ; and from
this mother and child we derive our titles of Scots and
Gaels. The first name also belongs to us as being of
Scythian descent ; but we good-naturedly handed it over
to our cousins of Caledonia, as we did the " Stone of Des-
tiny." Concerning their gratitude to us for these valuable
gifts, the less said the better !

JSTial lived near the present site of Alexandria, and had
a pretty sized fleet at command. Sympathising with the
oppressed children of Shem, it is said that he offered them
the use of his ships for the purpose of escape. The offer,
though not accepted, was remembered with gratitude by
the Israelites. Gaeidhil, or Gael, his little son, was fasten-
ed on by a serpent while he was engaged in some boyish
sports in the fields. The reptile entwined itself round his
neck, on which it inflicted a wound, but application being
made to the great Hebrew Law-giver, he applied his mi-
raculous rod to the part afi'ected, and an immediate cure
ensued. The child was called Gael-Glas, from the greenish
mark that remained on the skin.

Sru, a descendant of this Gael, being obliged to quit
Egypt ill a hurry, could only avail himself of four galleys.
In these he brought his people and their property to Crete.
The bards disagree somewhat on the subject of the after
voyages of the colony ; some making the fleet pass into the
Black Sea, and thence into the Baltic, through the connect-
ing water which then covered the Ptiphsean Valley, called
Sarmatia (Poland) since the central portion of Europe
emerged from under the sea. From the south of Sweden

THE LAST OF THE DANAAN KINGS. 2 I

they sailed at a still later era to Spain ; the other account
bringing them westwards directly into this country.

Our Scythians, having established their power in the
Peninsula, lived, and loved, and fought till the birth of
Gollanih, or Miles, who, being fond of adventure, went to
assist his relatives the Phoenicians, and his relatives the
Egyptians, and among both these distant connexions of his
he obtained royal brides. These ladies presented him with
eight children out of the thirty-two who called him father.
Of his domestic comfort or the reverse, all the records are
lost.

We shall introduce to the reader's notice three only of
his sons — Herenion, Heber, and Amhergin, and his uncle
Ith. This was the prince who first of his family, set foot
on our coasts. Some ill-advised writers assert that he dis-
covered our island from the top of a tower on the north coast
of Spain, as he swept the horizon with a telescope. There
are serious objections to this fact, arising from the prin-
ciples of natural philosophy and the history of discoveries,
and we shall not insist on its adoption.

Xo ; the fact was, that* having to share his Spanish pa-
trimony with so many, he preferred to look out for an
island for himself. He landed on the northern coast, and
a great concourse of the inhabitants collected to see the
new comers,' and ascertain their business. He mentioned
that his people and they themselves were of the same blood,
both having ISIagog for their ancestor, that his immediate
relatives were in Spain, and that he was employing his
leisure time I'isiting the neighbouring countries. In return
they informed him that their three brother kings were at
the moment assembled at a place a day's march south of
where they stood, dividing treasure, and that if he paid
them a visit he would be sure to meet a cordial welcome
to their court. The hint was taken ; and next day Ith and
one hundred of his followers were feasted by ]\Iac Cuill,
ISIac Ceachta, and ]\Iac Greine ; and the day following he
was invited to settle the division of their treasure. He
complied, and said that he had never seen an island so
desirable to live in, and added that they would show wisdom
by dividing it peaceably among themselves, or reigning in

2 2 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

succession. He was thanked for his mediation, and feasted
royally ; but after his departure matters took a strange turn.

" Brothers," said Mac Cuill, "did you notice the unction
and strength of the stranger's praises of our country ! "\Ve
are not standing here if his intentions are sincere towards
us. He is hastening to Spain, and will bring his half-
hundred of brothers and their forces on our backs. But
by our patron, Mananan, son of Lear, it shall not be !
Ho, there ! Sound the bugle, and gather round me all that
can be equipped for a march within the quarter of a sand-
glass." And about the end of that time he was treading
a northward forest path at the head of a hundred and fifty
men of strength and Valour.

The rear-guard of the Milesians heard the tread of march-
ing warriors behind them, and the blasts of the bugle-horns,
and in a few minutes they were engaged in mortal combat
with the Danaans. The fight was fierce and long ; but at
last Ith received a mortal wound, and then the sole object
of his son Lucha, and his faithful followers, was to carry
his wounded body to the ships. They succeeded ; and,
with determined wrath smouldering in their hearts, they
spread all theif sails to the northern breezes. The gallant
barks swiftly sped over the dancing waves to Spain ; but
the noble Ith did not touch its shores alive.

There was no lack of earnestness or eloquence in the
address of Lucha to his relatives on his arrival ; and when
the funeral rites of Ith were performed, tliirty barks, each
provided with thirty tried warriors and their followers, were
ploughing through the rough sea that divided them from
the " Woody Isle."

Mac Cuill received small thanks for his abortive attempt,
which had only served to hasten and magnify the danger ;
and as the available forces were not sufficient to meet the
invading foe, the chief druids^ at the desire of the princes,
flung such darkness over the shores as the Spanish sliips
approached Loch Carmain (Wexford Bay), that no object
could be distinguished at a yard's distance from the vessel's
edge. Noises of the most frightful and lamentable charac-
ter were heard at the same time ; and after a space they
were able to discern, through an opening in the black

THE LAST OF THE DANAAN KINGS. 23

cloud, -svhat appeared the back of an enormous pig, stretch-
ing miles and miles on either side.

A baleful light fell round it, and from its surface shot
up unceasingly mighty lances, as if a hedgehog was casting
its prickles. These fell in and round the boats, and dis-
mayed the mariners ; but the awful spectacle before theni
caused greater terror than could arise from mere personal
danger. The thick dark fog still enveloped themselves,
while the ghastly light played only on and round the
bristling object of dread.

But a violent storm arose, and drove them at some dis-
tance from the coast, in a south-west direction ; and after a
long interval of terror, suffering, and labour, they ran into
a harbour in the extremity of Kerry. Amhergin's wife
happened to be drowned there, and it was for a long time
called Inver-Sceine, from the name she bore.

Hearing that the princes were at Tara, they left a suffi-
cient force to guard their vessels, and proceeded into the
country. At Sliabh-Mish, in Kerry, they halted before a
cheerful-looking rath, on the upper platform of which stood
a majestic-looking woman, accompanied by a beautiful and
richly-dressed concourse of ladies. She was hailed by the
learned and valiant Amhergin, son of Miles, who, after com-
plimenting her beauty, dignity, and state, begged to be
honoured by the knowledge of her name. " Courteous
stranger," answered she, " I am the Queen consort of Mac
Ceachtha ; my name is Banva, and Banva is the name of
the whole island while I reign." Amhergin returned suit-
able thanks, and the march was renewed. At Sliabh-Eilan,
in Leinster, they accosted another equally beautiful and
noble-looking lady, who, with her train, had taken her sta-
tion there for the purpose of looking on the strange forces.
She also made a courteous reply, " I am the Koyal consort
of Mac Cuill. I am called Foela, and Foela is the name of
the island while I reign." At Usneach, in Meath, they
were met by Eire, wife of INIac Greine. She gave them
similar information, and would have probably given it with
more pleasure if she had known that her country would keep
her name much longer in memory and veneration than those
of her sisters.

24 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

So at length they approached the hill fortress of Tara in
the flat country of ]\Ieath, and summoned the princes to
resign the government of the country into their hands for
having treacherously slain their relative while on a friendly
visit to theu' shores. ISIac Greine, dressed in great splen-
dour, and surrounded by his enchanted guards, made answer
that they were not prepared to resist such forces as appeared
hefore them. He appealed to Amhergin whether it would
add to the glory of their memory in after times, when the
hards would tell that they fell on a small body of fighting
men and despoiled them of their possessions. " We can
cast such spells upon your swords, spears, and harness, if
you drive us to extremity, that they will be as little use as
twigs of sallow, and loricas made of marsh reeds, but we
prefer this condition, honourable both to you and us.
Depart to your ships, and stand out nine waves only from
the shore, and if we are not in a condition to oppose you
on your next landing, we will resign the country to your
stronger arms." Amhergin weighed the offer, and was in-
duced to accept it from dread of their having recourse to
magic aids. So the Gaels retraced their path to Inver-
Sceine, ascended the sides of their galleys, and rowed till
they were eight waves removed from land. All was quiet
to this ; but, as they crossed the ninth wave, such pitchy
darkness fell on the water, so furious blew the wind, and
so dismayed were the mariners by wild and unearthly noises,
that they lost all management of the barks, and they were
driven in helpless confusion all round the coast and among
the rocky isles. Six valiant chiefs, sons of Milesius, were
destroyed at various headlands ; and at last Heber with
his remnant once more gained the bay which they had
imprudently quitted ; and Herenion was driven into the
port of Drogheda, where his brave brother Colpa perished,
and left his name to the unfriendly harbour.

A few days after Heber' s forces gained the shore, they
were attacked near Sliabh-Mish by a strong body of the
Danaans, under the command of Queen Eire. There were
lost in this fight, on the Milesian side, two chief druids —
Scota, widow of Milesius, and Pais, another lady of rank.
The fight was obstinate, but in the end Eire's troops were

THE LAST OF THE DAXAAN Kl^GS. 25

routed. She gallantly kept them together, and retired in
good order to Tailtean, in !Meath, where she met her hus-
band and his brothers, and acquainted them Avith her want
of success. They made the best disposition they could, and
summoned the spirits of air, earth, and water to their aid.
They invoked the spirit of the ocean, Mananan, but all the
answers and omens were unpropitious ; they had ignored
the ever-sacred claims of hospitality, and the faces of the
guardian powers were averted.

So hope of victory there was none ; and when Heber and
Amhergin from the south, and Heremon from the harbour
of Inver-Colpa, united their forces, and attacked the three
])rince3 at Tailtean, they were received with a vigour and
determination furnished by despair. After destroying many
a brave Gadelian, Mac Greine, iMac Ceachta, and j\Iac Cuill
sought the three surviving sons of Milesius, and put their
strength, courage, and skill to a severe trial. But the sun
of the Danaan dynasty had set, and the brave brothers
perished by the might of Amhergin, Heremon, and Heber.
Their chiefs, after causing the death of innumerable foes,
fell exhausted on the heaps they themselves had raised ;
and the devoted princesses would not survive their husbands
and friends. From the appearance of the island on the ap-
proach of the Milesian Scots, it was afterwards occasionally
styled Inis na Maice (Isle of the Pig). So ended the dy-
nasty of the Danaans, to whom a portion of our archasolo-
gists attribute the round towers and those mysterious cavern-
buildings on whose original uses antiquaries are not unani-
mous.

Mac Cuill, Mac Ceachta, and Mac Greine, are in English, " Son of
the Log," " Son of the Plough," and " Son of the Sun." The first was
perhaps a clearer of forests ; the second, an agriculturist ; the third, an
astronomer.

The Milesians having got the island into their possession, Heremon
took possession of the central portion of the country, and Heber
governed the south. In this latter division were two of the loveliest
vales to be found in the world, but they did not fill up the cup of
happiness of Heber's queen. There was one beautiful vale in which
Heremon's queen took her pleasure, and if Heber would not add that
to his other two, Heber's wife was determined to give him no rest
night or day. As his sister-in-law was not agreeable, he was unwil-

26 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

lingly obliored to make war on his brother, but was unfortunately slain
in the battle of Geashil (King's County) ; so his poor wife lost her
husband, and vales, and all, as ^sop's dog did his piece of meat a few
centuries later.

In Heremon's reign, the Picts in their journey from the east, landed
in Wexford Bay, helped the natives against a marauding body of the
Cymry, and afterwards proceeded to Caledonia, as related in detail in
the Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts. The early Christian histo-
rians were, with scarcely an exception, individuals in monastic insti-
tutions, whose special province it was to make copies of the chronicles
and genealogies transmitted to them, and to eke them out with the
contemporary transactions learned from visitors, or the MSS. of
learned men entertained at the residences of kings or chiefs. They
always began with the Mosaic narrative. Whoever put the foregofng
historic romance together, had for authority some Pagan tradition of
an invasion of the island by Spaniards, whose ancestors had come from
the east. This was not sufficient for the Christian scribe. He felt
himself bound to* furnish GoUamh or Milesius with ancestors found in
the Old Testament, and to supply fathers, sons, and grandsons, with
romantic adventures by sea and land. The historical descent of the
Milesians on the island may have occurred any time between 1350
and 750 Ante Christum.

HOW EMANIA WAS BUILT.
About the year 300 a.c. (Keating says 400), tliree princes
of the line of Ir agreed to reign in succession (some say
twenty-one years each - an improbable circumstance). Eed
Hugh having reigned, and having been succeeded by the
other two in order, did not live to enjoy his second span of
power, and no male heir was present to take his place.
Diathorba, next in succession, now put in his claim ; but
the Lady Macha, who, like her father Hugh, was gifted with
red hair, stoutly disputed his pretensions. Taking for hus-
band Cimbaoth, who might otherwise have caused her
trouble, she gave battle to her rival, routed his forces, and
killed himself ; and his five sons were obliged to fly, and
take refuge in the woods.

Many parties had gone in quest of the fugitive princes,
but had not succeeded in capturing them. The approach
of a large party would be felt before they could do anything
effective, and few small detachments would venture too

HOW EM AK I A WAS BUILT. 2/

near the five vigorous and undaunted young warriors.
Ma ha feeling uncomfortable, and anxious to secure them
at any risk, changed her royal robes for the more convenient
garb of a huntress, shook the flour of rice on her fiery locks,
and thus metamorphosed, ventured into the tangled forest
where she was informed the outlaws were. It happened
that she met one of them near their retreat, and he, not
apprehensive of any covert design on her part, freely en-
tered into conversation with her. The talk became very
interesting, and just as he thought he was beginning to find
favour in the eyes of the beautiful and stoutly-built hunt-
ress, she pinioned his arms, strongly secured them at the
wi'ists with small but very strong whip- cord, placed a gag
in his mouth, and imitated the cry of a bird. This was a
signal to some of her attendants, who cautiously approached,
and bore the captive, bursting with rage, to the edge of the
forest. In this mode she enticed another to the same
point in the wood, and secured him. Having found out
the common refuge by this time, she boldly approached it,
charmed the refugees by her presence, put them off their
guard by her grace and animated converse, playfully men-
tioned her fear of weapons, and requested them to remove
them from her presence and lay them in the corner of their
cavern. They complied, each being very anxious to become
a favorite with the charming amazon. While engaged in
an exciting conversation, and totally inapprehensive of dan-
ger, they were surrounded by a score of armed men, some
of whom lost no time in securing their weapons. Shame and
rage took possession of the princes, but Macha's first care
was to soothe them. " Brave chiefs," said she, " it is no
disgrace to the boldest warrior in the world to submit to a
woman. I am Macha, daughter of Aodh Eua ; consent to
be my friends, and neither rope nor chain shall touch your
limbs." The attendants made no movement to seize them,
and after a few seconds' hesitation, still under the fascina-
tion of the lady's beauty and the kindness expressed in her
countenance, they approached, kissed her hand, and all
quitted the forest. When Macha arrived at her fortress,
in company with her captives, there was some division in
the councils of her husband and chiefs concerning the out-

28 THE BARDIC STORIES OP IRELAND.

laws. Some were for putting fhem to deatli or imprisoning
them for life, but she stoutly overruled their opinion.
" She alone had secured them, and it was hers to decide on
their fate." Already they were her personal friends, and
they had promised to superintend the building of the new
fortress, the plan of which, cut on a smooth strip of beech
with her gold bodkin, she exhibited to the council. Her hus-
band, her chiefs, and her captives found her irresistible.
The fortress of Emania, whose ruins are still traceable near
Armagh, arose under the superintendence of the five sons
of Diathorba, and there the famous Order of the Eed Branch
Knights held their sittings in after times. Archaeologists,
adoptmg the opinion of the reliable chronicler, Tighernach,
who died at Clonmacnois in io83, date the commencement
of reliable Irish history from the reign of Cimbaoth and
Queen Macha.

From the Spanish occupation of the country no great change of
dynasty occurred till the gradual occupation of the island by the
Anglo-Normans, the Danes getting only possession of some maritime,
and a few inland cities. The posterity of Heremon ruled Conacht and
Leinster ; the descendants of his brother'Heber Fionn (the Fair), and
of Lucha, son of Ith, ruled in Munster ; and those of Heber, son of
Ir, one of Heremon's brothers, in Ulster. The chiefs of these great
families occasionally dislodged each other, and now one, and now
another occupied the uncomfortable throne at Teamur (Tara), so
called from Tea, Heremon's second wife. The Leinster kings dwelt
at Naas or Dunrigh on the BaiTow, near Leighlin Bridge ; the ^Mun-
ster kings at Cashel ; the Conacht kings at Rathcroghan in Ros-
common ; the Ulster kings at Ailleach, a great stone enclosure in the
north-east of Donegal, or at Eamain near Armagh. If an ambitious
provincial sovereign made war on the Ard-Righ, this last, gathering his
own forces and those of the other petty sovereigns who chose to abide
by him, proceeded against the insurgent. The campaign concluded
with the one engagement. The defeated king scarcely ever survived :
he rushed into the thickest of the fight and was there slain. His
conqueror immediately was proclaimed head sovereign.

THE COURTSHIP OF LABRADH MAEN.
About 250 a.c. the wicked jDrince Cobhthach put to death
all the posterity of his brother Laere, King of Leinster,

THE COURTSHIP OF LABRADH MAEX. 29

except one grandson called Maen, who being dumb, and
consequently ineligible to reign "^'hen come to man's estate,
had his life spared. Cobhthach having attained the dignity
of Ard-Pdgh, dwelt at Tara, leaving his grand nephew under
the care of Feirceirtne the Ollamh, and Craftine the harper,
at his paternal palace of Dun-righ just mentioned.

As Maen grew, up he exhibited the most amiable equalities,
and was as noble in appearance, and as active and skilful
at martial exercises as any young gaisca in Leinster, One
day while contending with a young companion at sword
and buckler, and off his guard in the ardour of the martial
play, he wounded his opponent, and struck him down with
the force of the blow. Bushing to raise him, his emotion
produced a loud exclamation. Whatever impediment had
produced his dumbness was removed, and he began from
that moment to attempt articulate sounds. Those who
heard his first cry shouted out in joy, " Lahmdli Maen''
(jMaen speaks), and the expression remained on him as a
name.

Cobhthach, hearing of the wonderful change in his ward,
summoned him to Tara along with his tutors, and probably
began to think of some means to get safely rid of him. At
a public feast he asked aloud, " Who is the most munihcent
king or chief in Erinn." Feirceintne and Craftine answered
on the moment, "Labradh jMaen is that man." "Then
you set him above me," said the king. " If you value him
so highly you are free to follow him, for he presently leaves
this court." "The loss will be more to you than to us,"
said they. " Depart out of Erinn forthwith," said the irate
monarch.

Prince and tutors, taking council, set forth, and travelled
to the court of Scoriath, who held state at Fermoy, There
they were feasted and comfortably lodged for seven clays,
and on the eighth their host inquired their names and busi-
ness. They revealed these, and added, " we have been
banished by the Ard-Pdgh." " Then you are welcome
heartily to me," said he.

The young Princess Moria was the most lovely and
amiable maid at that day within the four seas of Erinn. She
had been sought in marriage by several young princes, but

so THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

her heart remained untouclied, and she would not Hsten to
any proposal. The disappointed suitors laid plan after plan
to carry her away by force, and the king and queen were
kept in perpetual v.'orry, guarding their treasure. The king
kept watch by day, and the queen by night, and the young
lady remained safe ; but the state of things was not plea-
sant.

Three interviews in the presence of the father were more
than sufficient to infuse the deepest affection into the hearts
of prince and princess towards each other. Alas ! there
was no opportunity for loving declaration on one side and
timid response on the other. Let ]\Iaen come early, at noon,
at even, all was against him. Watch and ward were ever
kept, — now by father, now by mother.

" 0 Grafting, most skilled of men in divine melody," said
Maen to that trusty dependant one day, " what will become
of me ? I die to speak two tender words to the most ami-
able Moria. I think she would not return a harsh answer,
but evermore the presence of father or mother renders that
happiness as distant as the moon or stars." " There is a
festival to-morrow," said the harper, " I shall during my
performance give you an opportunity of speaking to your
true love. K you neglect the occasion, by your hand, I
shall not be to blame."

When the feast was at end, and'Craftine called on, he
repeated the sorrowful lay of the Children of Lear, accom-
panying his poetry by the magic music of his harp, and such
a spell was cast on the imagination and feelings of every one
in company, that their eyes, their ears, and their whole
being were intent on the performer and his tale. No one
did or could pay attention to the movements of another,
nor did the king or queen perceive that the seats of Maen
and Moria were without tenants. When the harper con-
sidered that the sounds of voice or harp could not reach the
lovers, he changed his hand to the enthralling measure of
the Suantraighe, which no one could hear without falling
into an enchanted slumber, when their whole souls and in-
tellects were steeped in bliss. This gave the lovers, who had
already given and received their mutual declarations, time
to return and take their places. Just then the musician

THE COURTSHIP OF LABRADH MAEN. 3 I

struck up the Geantraighe, which roused the slumberers,
and threw all into an outrageous fit of merriment. He
might if he chose have followed this with the Goltraighe
which would bring desolation, and weeping and wailing on
the assembly, but he did not abuse his power.

The queen was not long in discovering that something
unusual had occurred to her daughter. Smiles and joyful
lighting-up of the features were detected when she thought
she was not observed by her mother, and it was not long
till her secret was withdrawn from her. King Scoriath
was not glad to hear the news, as the marriage would draw
down the resentment of the Ard-Righ. However, Craf-
tine's harp and his daughter's tears had their effect. But
before marriage could be solemnized, a strict injunction
reached Fermoy from the evil Cobhthach that no shelter
nor encouragement should be afforded to Maen nor his at-
tendants. The fiery king would have disregarded the
orders of his sovereign, but IMaen dreading the result to
those he so much loved, intrusted the care of his affianced
to her parents and his two devoted followers, hastened on
board ship, sailed to Gaul, endeared himself to the king of
that country by gallant feats of arms, obtained a strong
body of fighting men, landed in Loch Carmain, was joined
by many of the fighting men of Leinster, surprised his evil
grand uncle in Dun-Righ, and in the assault, he and many
of his unprincipled partizans were destroyed in a building
within the fort which had caught fire. The moment the
stronghold fell into Maen's hands he despatched a message
to Termoy requesting the presence of his affianced and her
parents at Tara, whither he hastened at once in person to
secure the succession. He was recognized at ouce as Ard-
Righ, and in a few days was gladdened by the arrival of his
beloved Moria and her parents. The Reign of Maen was
distinguished by wisdom and earnest efforts for the well-
being of his people.

This hero was also called Labradh Loinseach (Lavra the Sailor),
and some ill-judging story-teller related of him what the reader will
find in Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts under the title of " The
King with the Horse's Ears." But the Gaelic Midas must have
been other than our youth.

32 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

BAILLE AND AILLINN.

We could T\4tli some little mental exertion, invent time
and place, and plausible surroundings, for affording oppor-
tunity to tlie noble Ulster prince, Bailie, tlie sweet-tongued
son of Buan, ( son of liis own father ), and the lovely Lein-
ster princess, Aillinn, daughter of Lucha, to become ac-
quainted, to become deeply in love with each other, and to
be separated by some adverse influences. But we edit
these ancient tales of our country in good faith, and here
acknowledge that the genuine circumstances of their loves
and their separation are unknown to us, and that we can
only assert with something like truth, that the prince, in
his palace at Emania, and the princess in her grianan at
Dun-Righ, near Leighlin Bridge, found means of despatch-
ing trusty messengers to each other, and agreeing to meet
at Ros na Eigh ( see the " Fortunes of King Cormac " ) for
a loving interview.

The ardent and constant Bailie, proceeding on his south-
ern journey, had come as far as the coast by Dundealgin
(Uundalk), when he was startled by the appearance of a
tall, uncouth, wild-looking man coming hastily in the op-
posite direction. " Whence come you % " said the prince,
*' and whither are you going V "I am coming," said he,
" from Mount Leinster, and proceeding to the Bann, on the
bank of which I was born." "And what news bring you,"
said the prince, " from the far south ? '^ " My news is not
pleasant," said he. " The princess Aillinn lately set out
from Dun-Righ to meet the Ulster Prince Bailie at the
Boyne. An old prophecy declared that they should never
meet, and the men of Leinster overtook and detained her.
So much was her soul set on the interview that life left
wdthin an hour of her detention.'"' On saying these words
the weird-looking stranger vanished like a fairy blast. The
prince's heart burst with anguish at the news, and he fell
dead on the strand. There he was interred with honour,
and a yew tree sprang from his grave.

At the same time, as Aillinn was making preparations
in her sunny chamber, the same fierce-looking individual
presented himself, and repeated a similar story in reference

BAILLE AND AILLINN. 53

to her lover — that as he came along, he saw a number of
men piling up a cairn, and others inscribing on an upright
dallan, how Bailie Mac Buan died on that spot as he was
proceeding to meet the fair Aillinn, for fate had decreed
that never more in life should they meet. The ai3pearance
vanished, and lifeless on the floor fell the constant and
tender lady. She was interred amid general lamentation,
and from her grave in a short time sprung a beautiful
apple-tree. The rest of the tale is given in the words of
the lamented Eugene 0' Curry.

" At the end of seven years, the poets, and prophets, and
seers of Ulster, cut down the yew tree which was over the
grave of Bailie, and made it into a Tahall Filidh or Poet's
Tablet, and they wrote, we are told, the ' Visions, and the
Espousals, and the Loves, and the Courtships of Ulster in
it/ The same was also done to the apple tree over the
grave of Aillinn, and the ' Courtships, Loves, etc., of Lein-
ster written in it.'

"jS'ow, a long time afterwards, when Art, the Son of
Conn of the Hundred Battles, was Monarch of Erinn, a.d.
1 66, on the occasion of the great jDeriodical feast of Samhuin
(end of summer — November eve), the poets and professors
of all arts came as was the custom, and brought their tablets
with them, and among the rest the tablets above mentioned ;
and the two tablets were brought to Art, and he had them
in his hands, face to face. Suddenly each tablet of them
sprang to the other, so that they became bound, as the
woodbine to the green twig, and it was found impossible to
separate them. And they were thenceforward carefully
preserved Hke the other jewels in the treasury at Tara."

This melancholy tale is found in the Boole of Leinster, a compilation
of the first half of the twelfth century, made by Finn Mac Gorman,
Bishop of Kildare, for Aodh (Hugh) Mac Crimthan, tutor to Dermod
Mac Murroch, King of Leinster. It is there, and in a MS. in the
British Museum, asserted to have been written by Ailve, daughter of
King Cormac (early part of third century). A proof of some weight
is afforded by its conclusion that the pagan Irish were acquainted
with the use of letters. The Irish letters are named from trees, which
afforded the smooth tablets on which the early productions were cut.

The next legend belongs to that ancient class of which modern

34 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAKD.

fairy-stories are the existing representatives. It is probable that the
early tradition of the sons of God (wrongly interpreted as the Angels)
intermarrying with the daughters of men, furnished grounds for the
later myths of the unions of gods and goddesses with favoured mortals.
After the introduction of Christianity, these unedifying myths sunk
from one stage to another, and at last terminated in the mere fairy
story of the peasant's fireside. The form in which the legend is here
presented is that in which it was told by the later pagan or the earlier
christian bards.

THE STORY OF FACHTNA.

When Crimlitlian Cas was King of Conacht, the people
of that province met together at En Loch, in Magh Ai,
where they remained that night together. At dawn of day
on the morrow they saw a man coming toward them. He
had on him a mantle of five colours ; two spears of equal
size were in his right hand, a shield with a golden rim on
his left arm, a gold-hilted sword hy his side, and yellow
golden hair was falling on his back and shoulders. "Wel-
come the man that is coming toward you," said Laere Libhan,
the son of Crimthan, " for a youth like him is seldom seen
among us." Then said he to the ^''oung man, "Protection
for the stranger — the agreeable-looking hero." "I am thank-
ful for that," said he. " What brought you here V " To
demand a host." " Who and whence art thoul" said Laere.
*' I am one of the Sliochd SigJie^" said he, " and Fachtna, son
of Eeatach, is my name, and my wife has been taken for-
cibly from me by Achy, son of Sal . I went to his hill-fort
to give him battle, but he had fled to a brother's son of his —
Goll, son of Duilv, the. King of Magh Mealh. On this
very day we have agreed to meet each other in battle, and
to ask assistance I have come hither. I will give an ounce
of gold and an ounce of silver to every man that comes with
me." Then he turned away, and Laere said, "It would
be a shame to warriors not to assist this Sighe chief."

Then fifty warriors, with Prince Laerd at their head, fol-
lowed him, and he passed along under the lake, and thus
they came to his dun, and there stood GoU^ son of Duilv,

THE STORY OF FACHTNA. 35

with fifty men ready to engage them. Then was fought
the sharp, fierce battle between the fifty Sighe champions
under GoU, and the fifty Conacht swordsmen of Laer^,
"When it was ended, the fairy host were lying each on his
shield with his face upwards, and life and strength remained
with Laere and his men. " Where is the w^oman 1 " said
the Prince of Conacht. "In Dun Magh Mealh she is, and
the host around her," said Fachtna. '* Stay here," said
Laere, " till I and my fifty men return."

He and they marched to Dun Magh Mealh, and out came
the defenders of the hill- fort. *' That is but of small ad-
vantage to you," said Laere. " We have slain Goll, your
prince, and his fifty fair warriors. Deliver up to us the
wife of Fachtna, and slana (recompense) shall be given to
you." This was done. The name of the woman was Osnadh,
daughter of Achy Amlav. Laerd amd his warriors returned,
bringing her with them, and when they arrived at the Sighe-
fort of Fachtna, Laere gave her hand into his hand and
great was the joy of both. Deargreine, daughter of Fachtna,
became the wife of Laere that night, and fifty fair Sighe
women were given to his fifty w^arriors.

When they had remained there a year, Laer^ said, ** Let
us go forth and see in what state our kindred and our people
now are." " If you go," said Fachtna, " let Achy, the
father of my wife, accompany you." This was done, and
they came and reached the fair assembly. The people of
Conacht were at the end of the year, lamenting their lost
generous youths on Magh Ai. When they saw them- ap-
proaching, they pressed them in their arras and besoughtthem
not to leave them again. Crimhtlian, father of Laere, w^as
there and he cried to his son, " My son, abandon me not
again, and the third of the kingdom shall be thine. Gold and
silver cups shall be thine in abundance ; steeds, coats of
mail, shields, helmets, chess-tables, cloaks, fair w^omen-
slaves and stout men." But Laere said, "We must go;
our Sighe wives are lamenting us in the hill-fort. We must
return." They embraced with much weeping, but in the
end the separated heroes went again under the waves, and
so to the dun of Fachtna. They were received with joy
and many embraces, and there Laere and his w^arriors still

3*

9,6 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

remain with Tachtna, Deargreine, and their other loving
partners, the fair Sighe women.

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR.

Conor, king of Uladh (Ulster, shortly before the Christian
era), was an accomplished, wise, and valiant prince, but
not faultless by any means. Indeed, the personages of our
old romances are far from presenting us with morally-con-
sistent tableaux. The legendary writers, either from a deep
insight into human nature, love of truth, or bluntness of
moral perception, have attributed to their heroes a most
tantalizing mixture of good and evil qualities.

The beauteous !N"essa, mother of Conor, being left a
widow, was ardently wooed by Fergus Mac Eoigh, the
Ulster king ; but her love for her son was more powerful
than her desire to become Fergus's queen. So she did not
give her consent till he granted her son the privilege of
reigning one year; but during this term he displayed such
intelligence, ability, and energy, that chiefs and people
insisted on his permanently retaining his present power.

The ancient kings of Ireland, and even the kings of its
separate provinces, observed a custom more atlvantageous
to themselves than to their chiefs. They would pay visits
and make progresses through their territories, and on such
an occasion Conor and his regal suite found themselves at
the house of a hospitable ^a^^A named Feilim. It happened
that during his stay his host's family was increased by the
birth of a daughter. The king's druid, Cathbad, cast the
child's horoscope, and prophesied that she should be the
cause of trouble and woes both to Conacht and Ulster.
The king was advised to put the infant to death, in order
to obviate such great national evils, but he would not agree,
allaying his own and his advisers' fears by having Deirdre
(alarm) educated in a remote fortress under the charge of
the sage Levarcham, the poetess, who was never to allow a
stranger to get access to the stronghold nor its pleasure
grounds.

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING COXOR. 37

The fate of the Clan Uisneach.

There were at this time at the Court of Ulster three j^ouths,
the sons of Uisneach, most remarkable for manly beauty,
courage, and skill in arms — Xaisi, Ainli, and A.rdan. The
unwise duenna, not being as closely immured as her fair
charge, heard from time to time news of the outer world.
So one day when poor Deirdr^ felt profoundly tired of the
quiet and sameness of her abode, she begged Levarcham to
tell her a story, and the theme the foolish old woman se-
lected was the bravery, beauty, and nobility of Naisi, son
of Uisneach.

The governess paid for her little success by the worrying
she suffered at Deirdr^'s hands for the week ensuing.
Night and day she was obliged to be communicative about
the training of knights, the vows they made, their lives in
peace, in war, and in the council of their king; and at last
she frightened her into fits by announcing that she would
fling herseK from the ramparts unless she became the wife
of Naisi.

This hero was reposing on his wolf skin couch in the
quarters of the Knights of the Eed Branch, in the imme-
diate neighbourhood of Conor's palace at Emania, the ruins
of which are still discernible in the neighbourhood of Ar-
magh, when he was startled by the entrance of a young
lady, attended by a stout giolla well armed. When she
was sure that no inquisitive ear would be the wiser for her
communication, she addressed JSTaisi in these words : —
" Naisi, son of Uisneach, the Lady Deirdre, at present con-
fined within a lonely fort, one of the loveliest women of
Eire, and who has never yet laid eyes on knight or peasant,
has heard thy praise from the lips of the gifted Levarcham,
the composer of a thousand poems. Her life is desolate
until she beholds thee ; and through me she lays injunc-
tions on thee as true cvradh of the Eed Branch, that thou
release her from her thraldom, and make her thy wife."
" Tell the beauteous Deirdre," answered Naisi, "that I kiss
the ground touched by her sandals, and, though death stand
before me, I go to gather my friends. She shall shortly be
borne away far from the pursuit of Conor, or see my lifeless

38 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

body at tlie gates of her prison. Haste, fair maiden, to
your lady. I possess but half life till I hold her white
hand in my own."

Seven days after this interview, Naisi, Ainli, and Ardau,
accompanied by Deirdre, and their attendants and armed
followers, amounting to about a hundred and fifty, were
far from Emania. Dreading to remain wdthin the four seas
of Ireland, they soon crossed the narrow strait between Erinn
and Alba to escape the pursuit of Conor's bands.

Great was at first the bliss of the freed lady, but she
soon began to feel for the privations, and alarms, and dan-
gers encountered for her safety by her lord and his faithful
brothers. The fame of her great beauty and singular for-
tune soon attracted the notice of those chiefs in whose
possessions they sought refuge, and they enjoyed no more
comfort or hope of rest than the hunted deer, till at last
their friends at Emania seemingly obtained their pardon
from the offended king, and they w^ere invited to return.

The happy restoration of the fugitives was far from the
mind of Conor. However, Fergus, the ex-king, and his
own natural son, Cormac, were despatched to the retreat of
the Clann Uisneach with assurances of the king's forgiveness,
and invitations to return to Uladh.

The brothers received Fergus with cordial welcome, and
his message with joy ; but Deirdre's mind was far from
being at ease. She felt that Conor would obtain possession
of her if possible, and dreaded for the lives of her husband
and his brothers.

As their barques were nearing the coast of Uladh, she
bade a sorrowful farewell to the isles of Alba, where she
had enjoyed so much happiness. Here are a few of the
verses literally translated.

i-^'^

.^ '

* Dear to me is that land to the east —
Alba full of delights !
Never would I have quitted it,
But that I have come with Naisi.

' Gleneiche, Gleneiche !
There was our first bothy raised.
Smiling are the woods when the rising sun
Strikes Gleneiche with his rays.

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR, 39

*' Glendarua, glen of the two roes,
My love to every one of its dwellers.
Sweet were the cuckoo's notes on the bending boughs,
On the cliff that hung over Glendarua.

" Pleasant was Dray no of the sounding shore ;
Pleasant were your streams of clear sand !
Never would I have quitted that shore
Only that I come with my love."

When they reached the shore of Erinn, and under the
guard of Fergus and his son Fiacha were proceeding to
Eraania, the giolla of Barach, an intimate friend of Fergus,
presented himself before him with an injunction from his
master to come to him at the moment, and enjoy his hos-
pitality for three days. This request he was obliged to
comply with, from an old compact between himself and
his brother chiefs.

This scheme had been laid out by Conor in order to de-
prive the exiles of the protection of the noble and influen-
tial Fergus. He turned with a heavy heart to his two sons,
Fair Illan and Ked Buini the Fierce, and said — " I must
give up my charge, but I enjoin you both to secure the
safety of the Clann Uisneach, even at the expense of your
heart's blood ! "

When Fergus had quitted them, Deirdre spoke. " My
advice," said she, " which I fear you will not follow, is to
retire to Eachlin isle, and there abide till the three days of
Fergus's feast have expired." But Naisi, Ainli, and Ardan,
were too confident in their strength, and Illan and Buini
in their father's influence, to be capable of fear.

After this they came to Ardsalach (Hill of Willows), and
then Deirdre said to Naisi — " I see a cloud in the sky, and
it is a cloud of blood, and I would give you good advice, O
children of Uisneach ! " " What advice is thaf?" says Naisi.
" To go to Dundalgan (Dundalk), where Cuchulainn is, till
Fergus partake of the feast, and to be under the safeguard
of Cuchulainn for fear of the treachery of Conor." " Since
fear is not upon us we will not practise that advice," says
Naisi.

They were approaching Emania, and Deirdre again said
— " If we are admitted into Conor's own hall, where his

40 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

nobles are at the feast, he intends all honour by us. If we
are sent to the house of the Ked Branch, destruction and
the end of life will come upon us." " Fear not ! " said
'Naisi. They approached the door, and struck it with the
hand -wood, and the door-keeper learned their names, and
acquainted Conor. " What entertainment," said he, " is
ready at the Eed Branch house ] " " As much," was the
reply, " as would satisfy the seven battalions of Uladh."
" Then let the guests be conducted there," said he.

Deirdre, on this being heard, repeated her warning ; but
her warning was not regarded, and all were soon employed
satisfying hunger and thirst.

Conor was heated with food and wine, and he sent Le«
varcham to see how looked the sons of Uisneach and the
bride of !N'aisi. She found him and his bride playing with
the polished cabinet (chess-board) between them. She be-
stowed kisses and tears on them, and returned to the king.
" What news % " said he, " Glad and sorrowful," said she.
" The sons of Uisneach are the foremost in the world for
strength, comeliness, and valour, and will be pillars of your
kingdom, but the beauty and the grace of Deirdre when
she left Emania remain not on her."

This quieted Conor for some time ; but he drank more
wine, and asked would anyone go and bring him word
if Deirdrd's beauty and grace had remained on her ]

No one moved ; but Trendorn the Spiteful, whose father
had been slain fighting against Clann Uisneach, arose and
hied to the house of the Eed Branch. All doors and win-
dows he found closed and barred ; but through one small
window, forgotten till then, he looked, and above all love-
liness in the world seemed the beauty of Deirdre. " A
man of evil eye is spying us through that window," said
Deirdre. The words were scarcely uttered, when that eye
was driven from his head by a chess-man flung from the
hand of Naisi.

" ^Yhat news do you bring ? " was asked by Conor, of the
wounded man.

" More than good," he answered. " I^oble son of Xessa !
within the four seas of Erinn, or within the three divisions

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR. 4 1

of the world, there lives not a more beautiful woman than
the wife of Xaisi."

The hall re-echoed the shouts of the king as he ordered
his warriors to assail the stronghold of the children of Uis-
neach. The children of Fergus took on themselves the
post of danger ; and while the children of Uisneach and
Deirdi'e were engaged at the chess-board, forth went Buini
Borb and slew many of the fighting men of Uladh.

Conor asked who made that great havoc of the troops.

" It's myself, Buini the Fierce, son of Fergus," said he.

" A bribe from me to you," said Conor.

"What is that bribe?'' said Buini.

" A district of land, with my privacy and counsel."

" I wiU take that," said Buini Borb.

Buini's land became a moor that very night.

The wrathful Ulan Finn, furious at his brother's trea-
chery, now rushed forth, and great as was the slaughter
made by Buini the Fierce, it was nothing to what he made.
Then spoke Conor to his son Fiachra, and bade him take
his own arms, the Ocean, the Victorious, the Cast, and the
Blue-Green Blade (shield, two javelins, and sword), and do
battle with Ulan Finn.

"Warlike, bloody, desperate, forceful, inimical, stout,
mighty, violent, and reckless, was the fight that ensued, till
Ulan forced Fiachra to crouch beneath the shade of his
shield, the Ocean, which fatally roared. . . For it was fatal
for the shield of Conor to roar at the danger of the person
on whom it would be, and the three principal waves of
Erinn — namely the wave of Toth, the wave of Cliona, and
the wave of Rory, roared responsive to it."

Conall Carnach, hearing the roar of the wave of Toth,
knew that Conor or a child of his was in peril, and came
speedily to the battle ground. He saw the danger of the
prince, but without taking time for thought, thrust his
sword through the heart of Ulan Finn, the loyal and gene-
rous. "Dreadful is the deed !" said the dying man, " and
the sons of Uisneach under my protection." "By my hand
of valour," said Conall, " Conor shall not bear his son alive
from me in vengeance for that deed;" and he smote the

42 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

head of Fiachra from his hody, and went away in deeji
sorrow.

Illan, on the point of death, flung his arms of valour in-
to the house, and cried to the sons of Uisneach to defend
themselves. Out sprung the active, strong, and fierce bro-
thers, and cut, and hewed, and scattered their foes like weak
straw. Then did Conor cry to Cathbad the druid, " Fling
your spells and your enchantments over the sons of Uis-
neach, or there will not be a man of Uladh without the
bitterness of death and the end of life brought on him."
" Give me your kingly word,'' said he, "that you will not
inflict death on them, but make them again your faithful
followers." He gave that promise, and then did Cathbad
bring over them a sea of weakness and heaviness. Down
they sunk, and their red arms fell from their hands.

Conor, forgetful of his promise, called out to his warriors
one after another, to put them to death. But of that
mighty array not a man would stretch forth his hand to do
the accurst deed. At last came forward Maine Lavgarv,
and he was the King of Norway's son. With his sharp
sword he severed the heads from the three fair bodies, and
three deep groans went up from the breasts of the men of
Uladh. Their grave was made and their noble bodies laid
within. The unhappy Deirdre, no longer hearing the clash
of arms, came forth, and at the sight of the lifeless remains
of those so dear to her, shrieked and uttered wild lamenta-
tions. A few verses of her sorrowful song are here given '
in a literal translation.

" Long is tlie day without the sons of Uisneach,
Not sorrowful (to me was) their society,
Sons of a king by whom strangers were entertained,
Three lions on the hills of Emania.

" Thee I have rejected, 0 King of Uladh,
For the sake of my loved Naisi ;
Short are my days after him ;
Let me now sing his sad caoine !

" Their three shields and their three spears
Many times have been my bed ;
Set their three hard blades
Over their grave, 0 giolla.

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR. 43

" Their three hounds and their three falcons
Shall from this time be without prey ;
Three sustainers of eveiy conflict,
The three pupils of Conall Carnach.

" I forsook the delights of Uladh
For the three much-loved heroes ;
My life will not be long ;
Lonely am I left after them.

" Here I stand bereft of joy,
The end of life is on me ;
To survive them would be woe ;
Here no longer shall I be."

She flung herself on the bodies of her beloved. Her life
passed away, and a share of their graves was hers.

Fergus returned from the house of his deceitful friend,
Barach. Learning the facts related, he was beside himself
with rage and grief. He and Cormac, son of Conor, and a
champion named Duthach, collected warriors, and stormed
the stronghold of Emania. Scarcely was a single inmate left
alive ; but Conor, being on a remote excursion at the time,
escaped. These determined foemen then betook themselves
and their forces to the court of ]\[aev, Queen of Conacht.
For the space of seven years they ravaged the borders of
Ulster; they drove away the cattle, and killed all the
champions sent to oppose them. The district of Cuailgne
(Louth) suffered particularly from their inroads. On one
occasion the warriors of Uladh, being all rendered powerless
by the spells of the children of the Firbolg, Cuchulainn,
effectually defended the passes against the Conacht forces,
though Queen Maev was present in her golden chariot, to
witness, animate, and reward their bravery.

The Youth of Cuchulainn.

This celebrated chief just named, nephew of Conor,
quitted his father's house of Dundalgan at an early age to
learn the full knowledge of arms, and of the behaviour of a
curadh. His boyish name was Setanta, and Sualtain was
the name that was on his father. In this manner he got
the name of Cuchulainn. Culann the smith invited Conor
and some of his knights to spend a night and day at his

44 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

house ; and when he was closing his gates and his doors for
the night, he asked the king if he expected anj- more of his
people to come after him that evening. " I do not," said
Conor. " Then shall I let my house-dog loose," said
Culann. Setanta, however, followed his uncle, and was set
on by the furious animal. Severe was the fight that took
place, but in the end Setanta had his life in safety, and the
dead animal was at his feet. The smith and his guests were
just then before him, for they were brought out by the cries
of the animal. " What eric am I to receive for the loss of
my guardian house-man ] " said the smith ; " I slept in
security while he was alive, and only a weak young pup of
his breed exists." Let the boy himseK appoint the eric,"
said Conor. " I am satisfied with that," said Culann. " 'Mj
award," said Setanta, "is, that I watch your house, and your
forges, and your cattle, till the pup comes to his full growth,"
"That is a just award," said the smith ; and thus Setanta
got the name of Cuchulainn (Culann's dog).

When Cuchulainn became a man he wooed the Lady
Eimer of Lusk ; but Forgall, her father, said he was not yet
perfect in the science of war, and laid injunctions on him
to repair to the warlike lady, Scathach, in the distant Isle
of Skye. Thither sailed the young warrior with Feardia, a
Conacht youth, and thus they found their instructress : —
She was sitting in a high thick-branched tree, and her
opening lesson came to them in the shape of javelins, sharp
rocks, and other missiles, which she flung on their heads.
Cuchulainn, however, succeeded in gaining the very bough
on which his tutoress was perched, and she, who only
meant all in kindness, would have fallen on his neck but
fijr fear of a tumble. She invited him and his comrade to
a good breakfast in a neighbouring island, where her court
of martial exercises was situate. The three arrived at the
narrow strait which separated them from this island, but
the pupils saw no means of crossing but a thin curved rim
of iron. Scathach passed that strange bridge without pause ;
Cuchulainn would have preferred springing across, making
use of his long spear as a leaping-pole, but he was ignorant
of the depth of the water. He tried the bridge of fear, and
arrived at the middle of the farther descent. Ko untrained

EPISODES OF THE REIGX OF KING CONOR. 45

mortal could do more ; he Avent headlong into the deep,
but quickly rejoined his admiring mistress, who soon re-
Avarded the exertions of her new pupils by a good break-
fast of venison and oat -cakes, relished by diluted mead.

When Scathach considered the education of her pupils
accomplished, she subjected Cuchulainn to this trial. She
stood on the centre of a thin, level bar of iron, raised some
dozen feet above the ground, and directed him to walk
from one end to the other, without disturbing her or dis-
placing a fold of her garment. It was only a pleasant
promenade to her pupil. Having come pretty nigh to the
lady, he dropped to his full length, seizing the bar with his
left hand; then catching it on the other side with the right,
he sprang upwards, and lighting with his feet firmly planted
on the narrow support, he leisurely walked to the end, and
descending to the ground, he presented his hand to the
well-pleased Scathach, who, touching his fingers, bounded
lightly to the earth. The sorrow of the separation was
very great.

Alas ! Cuchulainn left a lonely wife behind him on his
return to Uladh. This was Eve, daughter of Scathach. A
son was born ; he was named Conloch : and when he came
to man's estate, and had taken lessons from his grand-
mother, he was sent to Erinn, to the Court of Emania, and
charged not to reveal his name nor parentage to the best in
the land. He was entertained suitably to his appearance
and manners ; but when asked, on the third day after his
arrival, concerning name and lineage, he refused to reveal
either. The result was, that he stood foot to foot in mortal
strife against a score of Ulster knights in succession, and
slew or disabled the whole.

In this strait Cuchulainn himself met his own son in the
lists, and, despite his skill and force, he was worsted, and on
the point of being slain. In this extremity he cried out to
his attendant, the trusty Laegh, to fling him the Ga-Bolg
(body javelin), whose stroke was always fatal. The unfor-
tunate youth was rolling on the sand a few moments after,
sped by the enchanted weapon; but before he expired he
was recognised by his wretched father. When he received
his death-wound, the by-standers loosed his lorica, and

4^ THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

underneatli was seen an amulet, which Cuchulainn recog-
nised as once worn by his deserted wife. The unfortunate
parent was for a time deprived of reason.

Tlie Cattle Spoil of Cuailgne.

Cuchulainn is now defending his province against the
Conacht invaders ; and, woe the while ! Feardia is foremost
amongst the foes of Conor.

Let us see what roused the flames of warfare at this time
between the two provinces,

Maev, the beautiful, the commanding, the courageous,
but, alas ! the unchaste, swayed at this time, conjointly
with her husband, Ailill M6r, the sceptre of the West at
Cruachan. She had had two husbands before the present,
the first of whom was Conor of Uladh. Like the wives of
other kings and chiefs of Erinn, she possessed separate pro-
perty, and one morning, as she was lovinglj'' conversing
with her husband in her Grianan, the discourse fell on the
comparative value of their goods. They reckoned cattle,
jewels, arms, cloaks, chess-boards, chess-men, war-chariots,
male and female slaves, and, most provoking ! they found
their possessions equal in number and value. At last Ailill
recollected the famous bull, Finnheanach (white-horned),
which, after having ruled Maev's herds for a while, left
them in disgust, as being the property of a woman, and
joined the cattle of Ailill.

Much chagrin was the portion of Maev, till she recollec-
ted that Dare of Fachtna, in Cuailgne, possessed a brown
bull, the finest beast in Erinn. To him she sent a depu-
tation, requesting the loan of the Donn Cuailgne (the
Brown One of Cooley). " Her gratitude would be great,
and he should be returned within a year, with fifty heifers,
a chariot worth sixty-three cows, and other valuable tokens
of her gratitude and esteem."

Dare was only too happy to oblige the great queen ; but
at the evening entertainment, an ill-bred guest boasted that
they would have taken Donn by force if they had got a re-
fusal. This so annoyed the hospitable master, that he dis-
missed the embassy next day ; but no bull, white or brown,
went with it to Cruachan. The enraged queen at once

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR. 4/

summoned her native forces, and invited Fergus, son of
Eoigli, and Corniac, son of Conor, to join her with their
available followers. This they did — but unwillingly —
and the troops set forward, Maev accompanying them in
her chariot — a lady of large size, fair face, and yellow hair,
a curiously carved spear in her hand, and her crimson cloak
fastened by a golden brooch.

Alas for the Ultonians ! Formerly in a fit of drunken-
ness they had invaded the kingdom of Kerry, slain Conri,
son of Daire, defenceless on his hearth-stone, and did much
unprovoked damage. And now for this, or some other
large crime, all the men of Uladh are suflering the punish-
ment of feebleness, and can neither hold shield nor throw
lance.

But when Maev, at the head of her exulting troops,
approached the fords which gave access to the territory of
Dare, there stood Cuchulainn. He demanded single com-
bat from the best warriors of her army, laying injunctions
on them not to pass the ford until he is overcome. The
spirit and usages of the people put it out of her power to
refuse, and there, day after day, were severe conflicts w\^ged
between the single champion of Uladh and the best war-
riors advancing in succession from the army of Maev.

AVhile the " Guardian hound of Ulster " is thus sending
to Tir na n-Oge, every knight, Conacht or confederate, sent
to attack him, INIaev the magnificent sits downcast in mind
in her golden chariot. The case is desperate, and she sum-
mons Feardia to her presence. Hitherto he has resisted
every demand, every blandishment of his sovereign. " He
enter into deadly strife with his fellow-student — the pupil
of his venerated Scathach ! No ! He would not even pluck
one hair from the long thick honours of his head for all the
cows in Cuailne, with the charmed bull at their head !"
But now the peace of his queen, the safety of his allies,
his own reputation, is at stake. He quits the side of the
chariot, leaving a smile of satisfaction on the still fascina-
ting countenance of its mistress, dons his armour, grasps
shield and spear, and confronts the terrible warrior. Cuchu-
lainn drops his arms, lifts his hands in wonder and grief,
and bitterly reproaches his former fellow-student for thus

48 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

breaking the strong tie of brotherhood that had kept their
hearts united so long. Feardia, with the tears wetting the
manly crommeal that shaded his upper lip, made the best
apology he could devise, and after a world of regret and
complaint on either side, they parted, appointing the com-
mencement of the strife for next morning.

The first day's business was a mere courteous exhibition.
They flung javelins and small bucklers, sharp in the rim, at
each other from morn to eve ;"then their squires prepared
their meal, which they partook of at the same table ; and
when the hour of rest arrived, they lay down side by side
on the same skins. About the end of the third day, there
began to come out more earnestness and less courtesy : the
squires ceased using the same fire for cooking — the knights
slept apart. Soon, there was need of salves and styptics
for serious flesh wounds. On the ninth day, Cuchulainn's
life was imperilled in the terrible struggle; and on the tenth,
being driven into the centre of the river, and roused to fury
by such humiliation, he shouted to his squire, Laegh, to
throw him the terrible ga-bolg. Feardia, apprensive of this
proceeding on the part of his adversary, had that morning
girt over his ordinary body armour, a round plate of flint ;
but flint, bronze, and tough bull-hide were of light aA^ail
before the charmed javelin that now was flashing with the
speed of lightning from the hand of the desperate warrior.
It tore and mangled the seven -fold defences of his undaunt-
ed heart ; and his powerful and graceful frame was soon
only a lifeless mass floating down the river. It was soon
grasped and brought to land, and receiving the useless ho-
nours of the dead from faithful squire and the distracted
slayer. For many a day he never touched shield nor spear,
and his ears were deaf to the cries of his people, bewailing
the plunder of the cattle and their own perils. . . .

The " Brown One " was captured, and driven before the
army of Maev. But the appointed time of the spell being
past, the men of Uladh, under their king, thronged south-
ward, and overtook the despoilers. Cuchulainn was unable
to fight. He was laid in his war chariot, and his trusty driver,
Laegh, described to him the various fates of the heavy
fight, and dresses of the warriors. Throughout the Tain

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR. 49

we are treated to a profusion of red or yellow hair on
the warriors' heads, yellow silk shirts, mantles held by
rich brooches, and finely wrought shields on their arms.
The hero of Dundalgan could not forbear approaching the
struggling hosts, and meeting with Fergus he adjured him
to withdraw from the battle. He was obeyed, and the Con-
acht forces soon followed his example — still taking care to
drive the Bonn Cuailgne before them.

This wonderful animal, finding himself among strange
pastures, gave vent to bis wonder and vexation in a series
of mighty bellows, which brought the Finnheanach on the
scene at once. AVhat combat of armed warriors could be
even a shadow of the mighty conflict that ensued, made
more terrible by the unearthly roars of the rivals 1 At last
Bonn, having slain his foe, took him on his horns, walked
contemptuously past the Eath of Cruachan, dropped his loins
at the ford, since called Athlone {Ath luain, ford of the loin)
and other parts at other localities, made his way to Cu-
ailgne, frightened the inhabitants, and finally charging at
the face of a rock behind which they had sheltered, was
killed with the shock.

IVie Clock Milidh of Mesgera.

In the Legendary Fictiovs of the Irish Celts, is related the
death of Mesgera, King of Leinster, by the hands of Conall
Carnach, and the composition of a ball by this rough war-
rior, out of lime and the brains of the unfortunate king.
From the savage circumstances attending the fabrication of
this clock milidh (hero's stone), the druid Cathbad prophe-
sied that it would prove fatal to Uladh, It was preserved
carefully in the magazine belonging to the companions of
the Red Branch.

The contention between Uladh and Conacht did not
cease with the battle just described. Keat, one of the most
daring of iMaev's partisans, even ventured in disguise to
Emania for the purpose of securing the famous ball, or
doing Conor some signal injury; and chance favoured him
beyond his expectations. Two fools who frequented the
palace had found the ball in their purposeless explorations
through the armoury, and were amusing themselves at the

4

50 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

arrival of Keat in tossing it from one to the other in
an open space outside the ramparts. He found no diffi-
culty in getting leave to join the sport, and gradually
lengthened the distance between the fortress and his com-
pany. At last, giving the ball a mighty fling, it fell in a
place rough with rocks and bushes, and he conveyed it
away under his cloak while his play-fellows were eagerly
searching for it in the neighbourhood. The fools, enter-
taining no suspicion of the theft, continued their search,
while Keat w^as speeding homewards wdth his much- valued
spoil.

The loss of the magic w^eapon was soon spread abroad,
and coming to the ears of the king he hastened the prepa-
rations of a foray Avhich he had lately determined on. He
crossed the Shannon, and found a strong body moving for-
ward to dispute his further progress.

The great ladies of Conacht, hearing of the approach of
the renowned King of Uladh, were all seized wath a desire
to see and speak to a knight so famed for gallantry, beauty
of person, and princely accomplishments. So they assem-
bled on a hill that lay between the two armies, and des-
patched one of their number, attended by a herald, to
request him to honour their assembly with his presence on
the next day, pledging their words as true women that he
should come and go in perfect safety. Conor returned
courteous greeting to the ladies, and the next day delighted
their eyes as he approached the hill unarmed, and with head
uncovered, except by his long curling hair.

Two hours went by before the entertainers or entertained
could fancy that five minutes had elapsed ; and w'hile the
ladies were under the full influence of the noble and grace-
ful carriage of the king, his manly beauty, his courtesy and
witching conversation, they could not credit the report of
his treachery to the children of Uisneach.

Keat had ever present to his mind the prophecy con-
nected with Mesgera's ball, and now, while the fair women
standing round the stately king hung with rapture on his
gestures, the play of his features, and the fascinating words
that came from his lips, the treacherous chief was seen
issuing from behind a clump of furze bushes, and making

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR. 1 1

towards the group with the fatal weapon grasped in his
strong right hand.

It is said that when an Irishwoman tinds her husband,
brother, or lover, engaged with fist or stick against a mem-
ber of a hostile faction, she instinctively flings her fair arms
round the dear one by way of aegis. If such be the case,
the result is seldom in harmony with the intention, as the
foe thus gets an opportunity of administering an unwelcome
stroke. I advise my countrywomen rather to imitate, on
such occasions, the plan adopted by their great grand-
mothers who were contemporary wdth Conor.

The fearless king w^as w^ell aware of the fatal qualities of
the ball ; and, being unarmed, determined to trust for his
safety to his fleet limbs. " Excuse my sudden departure,
noble ladies," said he, " the odds between myself and yon
traitor are too much, unarmed as I am." He was down
the slope wdth the speed of a wild deer ; and while Keat
was on the point of launching the fatal ball, he was sur-
rounded and entangled by mantles and scarfs, and the
arms of their beauteous wearers.

But he was not long detained, however strong and faci-
nating the ties flung around him — ties wdiich only one in
three hundred and sixty-five of his race would have moral
strength to snap asunder. At the moment of his release,
he saw his intended victim speeding like the wind about
three hundred yards in advance, and he bounded on in
pursuit, shouting so fearfully that the ladies on the hill
fled shrieking, or sunk senseless on the turf, and the wild
game ran terrified in every direction from the hill. The
yell only added fleetness to the limbs of Conor ; and let
Keat exert himself as he might, he found to his chagrin and
wrath, that the distance between himself and his game w^as
not diminishing by a single fathom. They had dashed
through thickets, across streams, uji and down hills, for a
distance of about three miles ; and now, as the pursuer
gained the summit of a rising ground, he had before hinj,
on the ridge of the next eminence, the main body of the
Ulster army, and their king about half w^ay between him-
self and the stream that sparkled through the valley. The
Ulster chief was recognized by his people ; the shouts of

4^

52 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

tlie northern warriors pierced the clouds, and many a swift
foot was in full career, till Conor, having reached the river's
side, was clearing it at a flying leap. Keat now slacking his
speed for the better direction of his cast, let fly the' fatal
missile as the pace of his foe was for the moment relaxed
on gaining the further bank. Such was the force with
which it was launched, that, striking his undefended head
even at that long distance, it broke his skull, and the next
moment he was lying senseless on the turf. So great was
the anxiety for their monarch, that but few pursued the
homicide, and these were soon thrown out by the unflagging
powers of the Conacht champion.

However, he did not long enjoy the profit or honour of
his exploit, for he soon after perished by the hand of the
great Conall Carnach, in a raid which he conducted into
Ulster. But for the circumstances of his death, and the
treatment of the wounded Ulster knight by Eealchu
Breifne, and the subsequent slaying of this Conacht cham-
pion, see the Lay& of the Western Gael, by Samuel Ferguson,
Esq., M.R.I. A. His account slightly differs from that by ear-
lier bards, but is infinitely superior in invention, and fitness,
and poetic skill. Among the same lays will be found " The
Lamentation of Deirdre '' for the loss of her husband and
his brothers, adapted to the ancient melody preserved iii
Bunting's collection, and imbued with the wildness and
intense melancholy of an Irish caoine. It approaches the
Gaelic idiom as nearly as could be permitted to English
verse, and may be said to be unique among the productions
of modern Irish poets. We heartily recommend our readers
to study these lays till they have them literally by heart ;
but we are not at all inclined to urge them to the perusal
of The Story of the Irish before the Conqvest, by M. C. Fer-
guson (a lady we presume), for alas ! our efforts in this
volume would appear colourless and vapid beside the racy
and charmingly-told stories which compose that collection.

But we must resume our story.

The Death of Conor.
Amid the lamentations of his faithful chiefs, the skilful
physician Finaan hastened to the couch of the insensible

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR. 53

king, and examined tlie condition of the wound. He
found the membrane that enclosed the brain still uninjured,
and by skill and care he restored his sovereign to health
again, but not to the possession of that vigorous life he once
enjoyed. He particularly charged his patient to avoid ex-
citement.

So Conor, avoiding absording passions of every kind,
employed a great part of his time in calm study and self-
examination, and was brought to a sincere sorrow for his
ungenerous and cruel treatment of the sons of Uisneach,
Seven years after Keat's attempt on his life, as he was
conferring with his good and wise druid on a fine day
in spring, while walking in a wood in the neighbourhood
of his palace, he was amazed at seeing his sage friend stop
short in his discourse, fling his arms wildly over his head,
tear his long white hair, and ntter lamentable cries. The
king implored him to cease these frantic manifestations
and explain the cause ; and as soon as he could recover ut-
terance he spoke thus — "Oh, my king," said he, while he
stood upright and fixedly gazed on the distant horizon, " I
see at this moment across woods, plains, seas, and their
rocky shores, a mound where thousands of cruel wretches
are gazing with cold curiosity on a bleeding naked figure,
whose head is pierced with the prickles of a thorny wreath,
and whose weight is supported by rough nails driven
through the tender nerves and muscles of his delicate
hands and feet ! Oh ! the superhuman beauty, the com-
passion, and the love, of that majestic though agonized
face, as it is bent in pity towards a divine spirit in woman's
shape, and directs her attention to a beardless youth, with
a countenance bearing the stamp of innocence, and love,
and intense grief ! I see the movement of their lips, I see
the expression of their features, and the angry gestures of
the armed wretches round them ; but no sound of spoken
words come to my ears. Oh ! that I were on that rock, and
could be blessed with the sight of the lions of Uladh,
Conor the magnificent, Cuchulainn, Conall Carnach, Lara
Buach, Naisi, Ainli, and Ardan, rushing with their sharp
blazing swords on these hell-hounds, and scattering them
like chaff before the blasts of the north wind !" But

54 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

here the enthusiasm of the inspired druid hecame blended
with terror, for Conor, whose attention had so keenly fol-
lowed his words and gestures that the scene was vividly
present to his mind, drew his heavy sword from its scab-
bard, and striking with fury at the young trees within his
reach, continued to shout, " Ah, ye murderers ! receive the
reward of your cruelty ! Unfeeling ruffians, I will teach
you to feel for your wicked selves ! Oh ! Divine Being,
whoever thou art, look on me with favour ! " But the ex-
citement was too intense ; the working of the maddened
brain burst its envelope ; the sword dropped from his re-
laxed grasp, and he fell lifeless on the long waving grass.
Let us hope that his spirit went on a different route to that
taken by the wicked Eomans and Jews who surrounded
the Mount of Calvary on that day !

' We cannot forbear quoting a few lines from ISIr. Ferguson's *' Ab-
dication of Fergus Mac Roy " in favour of the young Conor. The
adventurous and pleasure-loving monarch had neither the skiU nor
the patience to study ihe tangled causes which he was continually
called on to decide. One day, being more anxious to go to the chase
than to examine a tough suit, he assigned the hearing of it to his
young step- son, who, as M. Thiers would say, was found equal to the
occasion.

" Conor, with unaltered mien,
In a clear, sweet voice serene,
Took in hand the tangled skein,
And began to make it plain.

** As a sheep-dog sorts his cattle,
As a king arrays his battle,
So the facts on either side
He did marshal and divide.

" Every branching side-dispute
He traced downward to the root
Of the strife's main stem, and there
Laid the ground of difference bare.

"Then to scope of either cause
Set the compass of the laws, —
This adopting, that rejecting,
Reasons to a head collecting.

EPISODES OF THE REIGN OF KING CONOR. J^^

" As a charging cohort goes
Through and over scattered foes,
So from point to point he brought,
Onward still, the weight of thought,

" Through all error and confusion
Till he set the clear conclusion
Standing like a king alone,
All things adverse overthrown,

" And gave judgment clear and sound.
Praises filled the hall around ;
Yea, the man that lost the cause,
Hardly could withhold applause."

Fergus's mortification at his own deficiency, and probably a sense of
what was due to his subjects, were so strong that he placed his
golden circlet on the head of the young ollav, and resigned to him his
honours and troubles. We quote another reason assigned as the cause
of the ))rostration of the Ulster men. One of their chiefs, in the excite-
ment of a gambling contest, obliged his wife to contend in a race against
a fleet steed of his opponent. The poor lady was near her confinement
at the time, yet she came first to the goal. In her subsequent pangs
she uttered her maledictions on the men of Uladh, and they had the
terrible effect described. This legend is found among the Laijs of the
Western Gael. In Evenings in the Duffrey is related the rivalry of
Conor's great champion, Cuchulainn, with Conri, sou of Dairc^.

THE ENCHANTMENT OF CUCHULAINN.

This mythic hero was once bewitched by a pair of women
of the Sliochd Slghe. They appeared on a lake adjoining his
palace in the plain of Louth, as two beautiful swans yoked to
each other by a golden chain ; and he was so ill-advised as
to direct liis charioteer, Lae, to assail them with sling and
spear. They could not be struck, and the disappointed cham-
pion went away sadly, set his back against a rock, and a
druidic sleep fell on him. While under its influence, two
women — one with a green, and the other with a red cloak
— approached, treacherously smiled on him, and then chas-
tised him with horse-switches till he was nearly dead.

So the warrior lay on his bed in a state of lethargy for a
long year ; and at its close, as Fergus was sitting between
him and the wall, Conall Carnach between him and the

56 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

door, Lucha holding him up (in the original "between him
and the pillow"), a person appeared before the company and
ordered the sick man to go to the same rock where he had
been enchanted, and it would be well with him. On arriv-
ing there he was accosted by one of his fair executioners,
who explained that all had been done in love and kindness;
that the beautiful princess Fand, who had been deserted by
Mananan Mac Lir, had conceived a violent affection for him,
and would have him come to her in the beautiful island of
the Sighe.

So to this fairy island, Inis Labraidh, Cuchulainn was
borne, and there he lived forgetful of his chaste and loyal
wife, the fair Eimer. However, this last-named lady w^as
not resigned to her bereavement. She heard that the fairy
princess and her infatuated mortal lover were entertaining
themselves over their wine-cups and chess-hoard at IbarCian
Trachta (Xewry), and thither she came with fifty of her
ladies, each provided with a deadly skian, to slay Fand, or
send her back alone to Inis Labraidh (pr. Lavray). Before
using the weapons, however, she appealed to the good feel-
ings of the woman in power ; and strange to tell, so wrought
on her that she renounced the faithless husband, and was
in some degree recompensed by the sight of her deathless
lover — Mananan coming invisible to the mortal eyes pre-
sent, to bear her away in his resplendent chariot.

Cuch.ulainn was as furious at his loss as ever Achilles
when he lay in his galley, and bewailed Briseis. The poets
and druids of Conor's court surrounded him, and after
some attempts on his part to kill a few of them, they
strengthened their spells and laid hold on his arms and legs.
This appeared to be the essential portion of the charm : he
became powerless and asked for a drink. They reached him
the goblet of oblivion, and when he took it from his mouth,
he had no more recollection of Fand than if he had never
seen or heard of her. Eimer then put the chalice to her
lips, and all memory of Cuchulainn's falsebood disappeared
from her mind.

This is one of the Gaelic legends, translated from the original by
the lamented scholar Eugene O'Curry and published in The Atlantis.
We have merely given the outline.

[ 57 J

THE YOUTH OF MO RAN THE JUST.

In the early part of the first century of the Christian era,
occurred an insurrection of the lower orders, one of the most
wonderful on record, for it had been preparing for three
years, and no traitor was found to denounce the conspiracy
to the higher powers.

Every one of the Milesian colony was considered from
the beginning as a Duine Uasal (gentleman) at least. He
condescended to nothing lower than brehon, military chief,
or physician. The Danaans, the conquered race, and the
Firbolgs whom they had conquered a couple of centuries
before, were either farmers paying rent for their land, or
serfs, or dealers. Some of the dominant race had by mis-
fortune, or mismanagement, or extravagance, lost their
hereditary lands and their rank ; and those who still held
their ground as petty kings or chiefs, were addicted to a
life of warfare, and hunting, and feasting at their own or
their neighbours' duns, and the weight of duties and taxes
in labour and cattle on their dependants was very great.
So, during the reign of Fiacha we find the degraded Mile-
sians, and the Firbolgs, and the Danaans, concerting for
three years the destruction of the kings and chiefs of the
land, and no one sufficiently loyal or mercenary to reveal
the plot. By the end of the time quoted they had made
a large provision of eatables and drinkables, and a general
invitation was given to kings and chiefs, the great of the
land, to come and partake of the feast, which their devoted
tenants and serfs had prepared for them.

The place of entertainment was the plain since called
Magh Cru (Field of Blood) near Cnoc Mai (Knockmoy) in
Galway. Thither came without suspicion every rank of
nobility, king, and flaith — and while the mead, and the
wine, and the beer were draining, and the fileas reciting in
flowing verse to the sound of their clarsechs the deeds of
the ancestors of the guests, the farmers who sat at the low-
er ends of the tables, and the attendants who served were
waiting for the sound of a loud bugle, on the first blast
of which, all drawing sharp skians from under their tunics,
and falling on the unsuspicious and partly intoxicated

58 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

guests — royal and noble — slew them to a man. The
wives of three of the kings, foreign princesses, made their
escape to Alba, and there they brought to the world three
sons fated to continue the Eoyal Scotic line. These
princes were Cairbre, Tibrae Tireach, and Feradach the
Eighteous.

The commons who executed this cruel deed were the
Aitheach Tuatha (rent-paying people) ; in the chronicles of
Alba and Britain they are designated the Attacots. They
immediately elected for their sovereign Cairbre, of Scan-
dina\dan descent, who from the shape of his ears and the
general expression of his features was surnamed Ceann
Cait (Cat-head). Anarchy prevailed through his entire reign
of five years, and sterility was felt through the land ; the
wheat ear produced but one grain, and the oak but one
acorn.

Cairbre had done a heinous deed, his heart was bad, and,
among other punishments, every child borne to him by his
wife, a woman of noble birth, was marked by some unsight-
ly defect. He held consultation with his queen, and this
is the council she gave him : — "Call a feis (council) of
flaiths, of ollamhs, and of the priests of the gods, and let
them join in prayer and supplication to the unseen powers,
that children without blemish may be granted to us," It
was done, and the great assembly joined in supplications
and fasts, and did not separate for three months. But
when again a son was born to Cairbre, all of him that was
above his shoulders was an unvaried mass — no eyes, no
nose, no mouth. " Great was the influence of the feis of
thy flaiths, and thy ollamhs, 0 Cairbre," said the sorrowful
mother, " but it was for evil and not for good it prevailed.
I have borne a Maen (mute), and the most hateful of my
oSspring." " Let him be taken," said Cairbre to his stew-
ard, " and flung into the pool."

But before that could be done a Fear Sighe (man fairy)
appeared to the queen, and said ; " It is to the sea that the
child is to be taken, and held therein till nine waves pass
over his head. Thenceforth shall his name not be Maen
but Morain (Mor Fionn) for his glory shall exceed that of
kings." The steward was called by the queen, and direct-

THE YOUTH OF MORAN THE JUST. 59

cd according to the words of the dweller in the sighe
mound ; and when the ninth wave had passed over the
shapeless child, the membrane parted, revealed the head
and features of a fine boy, and falling on his shoulders, en-
circled his neck as a band. Thereupon he sang a lay, and
said : —

•' Worship God, ye peoples on the firm world,

With whom is contentment, with joy, with my forgiving God,
Who created the heavenly bodies."

The steward feared the wrath of Cairbre when he would
find he had not been obeyed, and therefore he brought up the
boy unknown to his parents. During the five miserable
years that Cairbre reigned, there was wickedness on the
land, and barrenness in the land, and the summer was not
distinguished from the winter except by the leaves of the
trees. At last he died, and the steward brought the young
Moran before the flaiths and the ollamhs, and they, looking
on the truthful countenance of the youth, and hearing his
words of sweetness and power, w^ould have elected him king
at once. " Not so," said he, " I am the son of an usurper,
and while the son or the son's son of my father sat at Tea-
mur, desolation would cover the land. Let Feradach the
Eighteous, the son of Crimthan, and the rightful Ard-Eigh
of Erinn, be sent for to Alba, and with him the blessing of
the sun, the sea, and the earth shall return."

It was done, and peace and plenty dwelt in Erinn dur-
ing the reign of Feradach, and trials before brehon or chief,
or king, were few and short. Over the ring that encircled
the throat of Moran, the king obliged him to wear a gor-
get of the purest gold. This, on being placed on the neck
of a lie-asserting witness, would narrow itself, and if the
false speaker confessed not the truth, would contract still
more and stop his breathing. If chief or brehon suspected
accuser, or accused, or witness, of uttering falsehoods, he
would call for the collar of Moran and the sight, nay the name,
was sufficient to force out the truth. We have lost many
blessings enjoyed by our fathers, but could bear our depri-
vations with content, provided that some mortal, favoured
above other mortals, could find his way into the sighe-cavern

6o THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAXD.

where tlie collar lies, and give it into the possession of some
living brehon, more than one of whom is worthy to sit in
the seat of Moran."

> ♦ ♦ ♦ <

THE PROPHECY OF CONN CEAD CATHACH.

The great Danaan king and philosopher, Lucha Mac Ceith-
lenn, who so bravely did his duty at the fight of iSTorthern
Moytura, founded Naas, and it was for centuries the resi-
dence of the petty kings of IS^orth Leinster. The rath, a
portion of which has remained to our days, was once in-
habited by these kings. Thus runs its legend.

Conn of the Hundred Battles (a.d. 125-152), while he
bore sceptre at Tara, was accustomed at early morning to
take a walk on the ramparts of his fortress, accompanied by
his three chief druids and his three chief poets. The object
of the promenade was to detect any malignant influences
which might be hovering in the air, and plotting evil to
his interests. If so, his druids and his poets were there to
perceive and frustrate the inimical designs.

One morning as he was thus employed, a stone on which
his foot rested for the moment, uttered several cries, so loud
that they were heard to a long distance over the flat plain
of Bregia. When the sounds ceased, he asked his druids
the name of the stone, what it had said, and the cause of
the outcry. They requested fifty-three days to study the
question and prepare the answer, and at the end of that
time they thus solved the problem.

"The name of the stone was the Lia Fail (stone of des-
tiny), and the number of shouts it had uttered corresponded
to the number of his descendants who would rule Erinn in
succession; their names were, however, hidden from them."

Conn remained in greater trouble after his question was
solved than before, and he and his retinue walked on in
silence. Suddenly the party were enveloped in a fog so
thick that no eye could penetrate it beyond a few cubits'
length. All stopped, and after some troubled moments the
sound of a horse's tramp was heard, and three casts of a

THE PROPHECY OF CONN CEAD CATHACH. 6 1

lance were made at the king, each approaching closer to his
person, and the third just grazing it. " AVho dares," cried
the chief druid, " thus to insult the king's sacred person
within the bounds of Tara 1 " At the moment the fog
dispersed, and a noble steed and noble cavalier stood before
them. "Far from offering disrespect," said the knight,
" 1 come to pay the Ard Righ of Erinn all honour in yonder
palace."

They proceeded to the building, across a rich and fertile
plain, and found the principal gate overshadowed by a tree
whose trunk, boughs, and leaves were all of the finest gold.
They entered, and were received by a beautiful and stately
princess, before whom w^ere placed a silver vessel filled with
red ale, and a golden ladle and goblet. The knight, their
conductor, took his seat on the throne. He was of gigantic
size, of perfect form, and of a majestic and pleasing coun-
tenance.

" I give you welcome," said he, " 0 ! valiant monarch, to
the palace of Lucha ]\fac Ceithlenn. Lil^e other chiefs of
that wise and noble people, the Danaans, I enjoy a siglie
existence since my mortal career came to an end. I shall
reveal to you the length of your reign, and the names of
your successors. This lady, who is the guardian sighe of
Erinn, will first give you an entertainment.

The table was laid, and a noble meal made on one gigantic
rib of an ox, and another of a wild boar. The lady filled
a golden cup with the red ale, and asked the sighe king to
whom should she present it. " Present it," said he, " to
him ^^ hose title shall be * Conn of the hundred battles.'
He will reign fifty years over Erinn, and be slain at Tuath
Anirois." The princess again said, " To whom shall this
second cup be given 1 " He answered, " To Art, son of
Conn. He will reign thirty years, and be slain at IVIagh
Mucruimhe " (Macroom). She again asked, " To whom
shall this cup of red ale be given ? " and the answer was,
"To Cormac, son of Art," etc., etc. At last, as she ap-
proached the coming of St, Patrick, and asked the usual
question, the king said "To Laeghaire (pr. Laere), of many
conflicts, who shall devastate the Litfey (Leinster), and
many other territories. After he has reigned five years

62 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAXD.

shall come tlie Tailgean (lioly offspring, religious soldier) ;
that is, Patrick, a man of great dignity, whom God will
honour; who will light a great torch, which shall illuminate
Erinn even to the sea," etc.

In this manner went on the prophecy till the reign of
Fergus, son of Maelduin, slain at Almhain, in 718.

THE MONSTER IN LOCH RUAIGHEE.
In the days of Conn of the hundred battles, as Fergus
King of Ulster was sleeping in his chariot by the sea-shore,
the Imurro Lucliorjyain (sea fairies) being pleased with his
appearance, approached, lifted him gently out of the vehi-
cle, and were bearing him off to their bowers under the
ocean. He awoke as his feet touched the water, and, see-
ing how matters stood, he seized a fay in each hand, and
drawing his arms together he pressed a third close to his
breast. "Life for life" (quarter), said they. "You shall
have that," answered he, "provided you grant me three
wishes." " If within our power, they shall be granted."
" j\Iy desire is to pass freely and without inconvenience
under seas, lakes, and pools." "That power you shall
have, but we lay geasa on you, never to enter Loch
Euaighre in your own country." Then the chief fairy put
herbs in his ears, and his own cowl on his head, and
Fergus went safely with them below the waves.

Forgetful of the geasa laid on him, Fergus, after enjoy-
ing existence under the ocean and many lakes, would
needs try what was to be liked or dreaded in Loiigh
Euaighre. His future fortunes must be given in the words
of Mr. O'Curry, the translator of the first volume of The
Senchus Mor : —

" As he went into the loch he saw in it the Muirdris,
a frightful sea-monster. One moment it used to contract
and then dilate like a smith's bellows. On his beholding
it, his mouth became permanently distended to both his
ears, and he fled out of the loch ; and he said to his cha-
rioteer, " How do I appear," and the charioteer replied,

THE MONSTER IN LOUGH RUAIGHRE. 6^

"Thy aspect is not good, but sleep will restore thee."
Upon which, therefore, Fergus went into his chariot and
slept.

"Xow, while he slept, the charioteer went to the wise
men of Ulster who were at Emain Macha, and told them
the adventures of the king, and he asked them what king
they should take after him ; for it was not easy to keep a
king with a blemish at Emain.

" The advice of the wise men of Ulster was, that the
king's house should be cleared of rabble, that there might
be no fools or idiots in it, or persons who would reproach
the king with the blemish on his face, and that a muddy
bath should always be prepared for him, that he might not
see his shadow on the water. They afterwards kept the
king in this manner for three years ignorant of his own
blemish.

" One day afterwards he bade his bond-maid make a bath
for him. He thought that the woman was making the
bath too slowly, and he gave her a stroke of his horse-whip.
She became vexed, and reproached the king with his
blemish, whereupon he gave her a blow with his sword,
and divided her in twain.

"He then went off and plunged into Loch Euaighre, where
he remained a day and a night. The loch bubbled up from
the contest between him and the sea-monster, so that the
noise thereof reached far off into the land. He afterwards
came up, and appeared on the surface of the loch, having
the head of the monster in his hand, so that all the Ulster-
men saw him, and he said to them, ' I am the survivor, 0
Ultonians ! ' He afterwards descended into the loch and
died, and the loch was red from then for a month after-
wards ; concerning which was sung —

" Fergus, son of Leidi the king,
Went into Fertais Rudhraidhe ;
He saw a form of no great beauty,
Which was the cause of his blemish."

This strange legend is taken from the book of Brehon Laws already
quoted. Its presence in that grave compilation is owing to the eric
to which Fergus was amenable for the slaughter of his bond-maid, and
to other incidental erics.

64 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

THE FORTUNES OF KING CORMAC.

How Cor mac chose a Wife.

Some pity and a great deal of blame have fallen in our
days on Irish gentlemen, whose estates, slipping through
their hands, have dropped down into a shabby little court
in Henrietta-street. If it can be of comfort to the dispos-
sessed to know that their fortune is only the result of
causes in of)eration since the days of Cormac, King of
Erinn, (reign, 227-268, a.d.) let them enjoy that consola-
tion, and listen to the story of one of their great models,
who honoured the neighbourhood of Mount Leinsterby his
residence about the year 230 of the Christian era. His real
name was unpronounceable, so let him be called Lavlaan
(Broad Hand), and his rank that of a Bo-Aire (Gentleman
Cowkeeper). His heart, however, was large enough for a king.
He kept open house for all passers by ; and as our old kings
and tanists patronized junketings and cosherings at the
houses of their gentlemen-cowkeepers, his halls were seldom
without guests. His lands were wide, his cattle many, but
a whole province would have been insufficient to satisfy the
generous impulses of his big heart. Alas ! the cattle were
at last kiUed off, the fuel failed for the mighty fire-places,
there was no generous wine, usquebaugh, nor mead, to fill the
four cornered silver-hooped medhers. The jolly roistering
guests forgot the way to his brugh, and only seven cows
and a bull were left out of all his vast possessions. So,
getting up one summer morning, he awaked his fair niece
Eithne, and they both quitted the once opulent homestead ;
and driving their small herd before them, they journej^ed
into the fertile country of Meath, and settled down in a
quiet nook, with just enough to maintain an obscure exist-
ence by care and economy.

They had in some degree reconciled themselves to this
great change in their condition after the lapse of a couple of
years, when, towards the close of a fine day, a noble looking
Tiernagh happened to be riding by at a short distance from
their residence. He observed a beautiful young woman
employed in milking, and stopped, apparently to learn the

THE FORTUNES OF KING CORMAC. 6^

process. The fair milk-maid, probably unaware of his pre-
sence, proceeded thus. She drew a portion of milk from
each of her seven cows in succession, and emptied it into
one vessel, and then began with the first cow again, and
put the produce of the second milking into a separate
vessel. After filling her two neat wooden pails, she went
into the house, leaving the knight enchanted by her discre-
tion, grace, and beauty. He could not stir from the spot,
and soon had the happiness of seeing her re-appear, bearing
a reaping hook in her delicate hand. She approached a
marshy bit of land, and cut a supply of rushes, separating
them as she did the milk, into a heap of well-developed,
nice-looking reeds, and another of lean, scrubby ones. Her
task being over, she carried off her two bundles to the
cottage, and the knight's admiration went on increasing
with every step she took.

So beautiful she appeared, and so judicious and incom-
prehensible her conduct, that the knight could no longer
remain silent. He accosted the fair Eithne, and begged
her to explain what seemed to him so mysterious in her
proceeding. "It is easily understood. Sir Tiernach," said
she. " My uncle, the great Lavlaan of Sliav Lainghe, after
exercising boundless hospitality to all that ever entered his
gates, is now poorly living in yonder cabin, and you cannot
wonder that I reserve the best of the milk for his supper,
the best of the rushes for his bed, and the purest of spring
water for his drink." " Blessings on your love and care of
your kinsman ! " said the horseman. *' Maj'' I hope for
welcome for one night from the open-hearted Lavlaan, who
has in his time entertained the fourth part of the knights
of Erinn ]" '* We have but poor fare to offer you, sir knight,
but to such as it is you,'' etc., etc. "The plainest fare,"
answered the cavalier, " offered by such hands," etc., etc.
Lavlaan, his niece, and the new guest, spent a very pleasant
evening together ; cakes, fruit, and milk furnished a deli-
cious repast to the three, who were all delighted with each
other, and these few plain words uttered by the stranger
towards the close of the evening's conversation, seemed to
the old gentleman and his fair niece imbued with the very
essence of eloquence : " Hospitable Lavlaan, the last of

S

66 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

your guests is Cormac, son of Art, son of Conn of the hun-
dred battles. He is anxious for a companion to share his
joys, to comfort him when in trouble, and to whom he may
look for pure sympathy in his endeavours for the good of his
people. Fair Eithne, ask consent from your uncle and your
own heart to be my wife. Whether you obtain it or not,
I will give him possession of such a tract of laud as will
enable him to exercise moderate hospitality during the re-
mainder of his life."

The prospect of resuming his former state, seemed all at
once to have taken a score of years off the shoulders of the
host. His consent had not to be asked twice, and if
Eithn6 was inclined to give a refusal there were too many
obstacles in her way. She became Cormac's queen, and
her uncle kept open house once more, but in the reformed
style of Cogia Hassan.

Hoio Cormac lost and recovered his Throne.

But the possession of the crown of Ireland, and of an
accomplished and virtuous queen, did not exempt Cormac
from the perils that then environed Irish Kings. He gave
a magnificent entertainment to the nobles of Ulster ; and
while engaged in that hospitable proceeding, his beautiful
and luxuriant crop of hair was maliciously set on fi.re by
the treachery of the three brothers, " Fergus of the Black
Teeth," "Fergus of the Crooked Teeth," and "Fergus of
the SHm Hair.''

As no man with any visible personal defect would be
allowed to wield the Irish sceptre, poor Cormac was forced
to abdicate. So, placing his queen in a place of safety, and
committing his son Cairbre to the care of Flaath, his trust-
iest adherent, he betook himself to the court of Tadg(Thady),
king of the southern portion of Ireland, and a relative of his
own. Thady received him with much kindness, and not
only promised him assistance, but mentioned where the
stout warrior, Lucha Laga, his relative, lived, who if his
services could be procured, would be an invincible ally.
This champion had killed in battle Art the ]\Ielancholy, the
father of Cormac, and son of the renowned Conn of the
hundred fights. He was now living in a poor cottage, a

THE FORTUNES OF KING CORMAC. 67

prey to sorrow for having joined the foreign mercenaries,
against whom Art was defending his country the day he
perished by his hand in the battle of Macroom.

Cormac proceeded to Aharla, where he found the great
swordsman lying asleep on rushes on the floor of his lowly
cabin. After contemplating for some time, with mingled
feelings, the stern and grim visage of the slayer of his father,
he pricked him with the point of his spear, on which Lucha .
opening his eyes, and looking angrily at the king, asked
who it was that had dared to take such a liberty with him.
" I am Cormac, son of Art whom you slew at the fight of
^lacroom." " Ah ! that alone could excuse you : take my
life if you choose," " I want not your life. I am told you
are a prey to sorrow for having stood by the side of the
foreigners, and for having slain the son of the mighty Conn.
I bring your cure. I am treacherously driven from my
throne by the villany of the three Ferguses. They have not
left a single glib of hair on the head of him who was sur-
named Ulfudha (long-haired) ; but with the aid of the
noble Tadg and your stout arm, I will crush the traitors,
and restore you to honour and peace of mind."

" My arms and my life are yours, son of Art : every day
will be the length of three till I stand before Fergus of
the Black Teeth in the view of the best champions both of
Leath-Cuinn and Leath-Mocha (Conn's portion and Mocha's
portion ; south and north ; an eiscir or ridge from DubUn to
Gal way being the dividing line).

So saying, he shook off" his lethargy, accompanied Cormac
to Ely where the court was kept, hastened the preparations,
roused the enthusiasm of the forces by his presence and his
spirit-stirring words j and with little delay the forces of
^funster were soon near the field of Criena, Avhere the three
brothers of the nicknames were prepared to meet them.
Tadg was the more disposed to risk life and dominion for
Cormac, as the King of the Black Teeth had slain his own
father Cian some time before ; but for some reasons which
the old chroniclers have not given, he would not allow
Cormac to be present in the battle.

Lucha, when his blood Avas heated in personal conflict,
had no command over his violent impulses. Cormac being

5*

6S THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

aware of tliis defect in his champion's disposition, had one
of his attendants attired in his kingly habihments, and
stood by in the garb of a galloglach to watch Lucha's be-
haviour during the coming strife. So the fight began, and
was sturdily maintained on both sides, Tadg doing the duty
of a general and swordsman at once ; but Lucha, hewing
his resistless way through the Ulster ranks, penetrated to
where a Fergus was directing the operations of his men.
Cutting down all that intervened, he engaged the ill-fated
prince, and in about ten minutes he stood before the pre-
tended Cormac, and throwing down at his feet a gory head,
he cried out, "' Cormac, son of Art, is that the head of your
mortal foe 1 " " No, brave champion : you may easily see
it is his brother of the long hair." " Oh, Mile Mollachd! "
cried he in angry sorrow, " then I have to begin my toil
anew." ",Cormac Aboo !" he shouted in a voice of thunder,
and plunging into the fight again, he cut down every warrior
tliat dared to bar his bloody progress, and was soon engaged
with the second brother.

This time the strife was longer, for Lucha's arm was
swelled, and his limbs somewhat fatigued. But his furious
might prevailed again ; and wading back through the pros-
trate sheaves of that terrible harvest day, he displayed the
second princely spoil, and repeated his demand. " Alas !
that is only the head of Fergus of the Crooked Teeth."
" Cead Mile Mollachd ! " shouted he in dispair, " Is my
task not done ? Give me a drink." He sat down for a
space in a state of deep dejection ; but after getting the
required draught, he roused himself once more, looked rather
menacmgly on the false Cormac, and waving his heavy
sword, he was soon lost in the wild and mad concourse of
struggling warriors. The battle, which early in the day had
poured its waves to the side of the hill where Cormac stood,
w-as now far withdrawn, and the shouts and trumpet blasts
came only faintly to the ears of that king and his trusty
squire, for Tadg had well directed the powers of his heroic
tribes, and the resistless force of Lucha had struck the
boldest of the foes with dismay. Lucha was at last recog-
nised ascending the hill with pain ; his limbs were stiff,
and his lorica streaked with dark red gore. Approaching

THE FORTUNES OF KING CORIIAC. 69

the kingly likeness, and wearily raising the third proof of
his terrible prowess, he cried in tones nearly inarticulate
from rage and fatigue, " Whose head is that, Corraac, son
of Art ]" " Thanks to thy faithful and strong arm, Fergus
Black Tooth is no more," answered the squire in a very un-
assured tone, for there was a fixed, fierce stare in the eyes
of the champion, while his fingers were opening and shut-
ting convulsively, and his form and features swelling with
some purpose of intense wrath. " Then have him fully to
thyself," was the wild and savage reply, and the trophy
grasped by the hair was dashed in his face by the insane
swordsman, whose forces being exhausted by this last fitful
effort, he fell helpless on the hill side. Well was it for the
sage Cormac, that he had descended from his kingly state
on that day, for his unhappy representative was struck
dead by the terrible blow.

TJie Surgery of the Early Celts.

Tadg had stipulated for reward of his services, that if he
won the fight, he was to receive as much land as he could
surround between the end of the battle and nightfall, dri-
ving in his own chariot. Though wounded in three several
places, he drove from the field the moment victory was as-
sured, and ordered the charioteer to take the hill of Tara
\\athin his compass, and drive on to I)ublin. He stopped
his wounds as well as he could, struggled with the anguish
arising from them, and neither sighed nor groaned. But
the loss of blood brought on weakness, and for a time he
was insensible. On recovering out of his lethargy, and re-
collecting the circumstance in which he was placed, he
found himself unable to guess at the duration of his swoon ;
so leaning forward, he hastily demanded of the charioteer
whether they had yet got beyond Tara. The man answer-
ed they had not, and the reply so wrought on the weakened
and disturbed spirit of the king, that he darted his spear at
his driver, and losing strength and recollection at the mo-
ment, he fell senseless into the bottom of the chariot.

Cormac had not been unmindful of Tadg's proceedings ;
and it happened that he was on the spot very soon after
this occurrence. Several of the Munster king's trusty fol-

/O THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

lowers were present, and were doing what they conld for
him ; but Cormac called to his favourite physician, and re-
quested him in the hearing of all present, to bind up the
wounds of his generous ally, and bestow all his care on his
recovery. This unprincipled professor, either to gratify
some spite of his own, or to indulge his sovereign's supposed
wishes, privately conveyed an ugly-looking earwig into one
wound, the rusted point of a spear into another, and an ear
of barley into a third. By his great skill he wrought an
apparent cure, but the poor king remained in a miserable
state of weakness and feverish irritation, and scarcely slept
an hour for an entire year.

The brave and single-minded Lucha was restored to
health and his former vigour by the devoted care of his
people after the terrible fight of Criena, As soon as he Avas
able, he set out to visit his king, and never quitted him
during his illness. He suspected that some treachery had
been resorted to, but the Avounds were to all appearance
healed, and no case could be made out against the physi-
cian. At last, unable to remain looking on without being
able to do any good, he set out for Dalriada in the north,
and in a short tinie returned, accompanied by a trusty and
skilful physician and his three pupils. The king was ques-
tioned concerning the peculiar nature of his sufferings, and
as the skilful leech lightly touched the surface where the
wounds had been, he cringed and winced under the delicate
handling.

So, retiring to the end of the apartment, he directed one
of his pupils to lance a wound, and bring him word of what
he observed. The poor king heaved a painful sigh as the
slight scar was made, and the pupil returning to his master,
reported under his breath, that he found a living earwig at
the bottom of the wound, tearing and mangling the flesh.
The second pupil tried another wounded spot, caused the
patient to sigh more painfully than before, and reported his
discovery of a rusty spear point infecting all around it.
The third drew such a sigh from the sufferer, that all
thought it was over with him, and the doctor was then
made aware that an ear of spiked barley was doing its hor-
rid office in the third wound. The skilful man said as little

THE FORTUNES OF KING CORMAC. 7 I

as if, instead of the " Ollav Ceannfadha, Dalriada, third
centu7y," his card bore the words — " Merrion Square^
North, 1 8/ 1." He left the room, and returning in a quar-
ter of an hour, the suffering king with his eyes fixed on the
door, was dismayed by seeing the sage enter at a rapid pace,
fury in his eyes, and a bright red-hot coulter in his hand.
He directly charged the bed of sickness, and the terrified
patient sprang out at the other side with all the strength he
could muster. The violent movement, aided by the previ-
ous scarring, caused the wounds to burst open, and out flew
the earwig, the rusted spike, and the ear of barley. Thus
by the good natured zeal of Lucha Laga, and the skill of
the wise physician, was saved the life of a brave warrior and
a good sovereign. It will scarcely be supposed from the
circumstances of the story, that Lucha was brother to Tadg's
grandfather, and Cormac's father brother to his (Tadg's)
grandmother ; yet so the relationship stands in the genea-
logies.

A Rash Experiment,

Great joy was expressed by Cormac's people on his
restoration to the throne, and gladsome the meeting be-
tween himself and his amiable and discreet consort. Among
the welcoming faces that thronged round him he missed
Flaath, to whom he had entrusted the care of his young
son. He was on the point of sending for him and his pupil,
when a disturbance was perceived at the entrance of the court,
and among a rather disorderly concourse entering at the
moment, he recognized Flaath, with his hands manacled,
in custody of his own servants, and with his own wife as
director of the proceedings. " What is the meaning of this
disorder, and why is not my son present ? " said the king,
addressing the pinioned man ; but he hung his head, and
made no answer. " Mo chuma (my sorrow) ! " cried out
his wife, " that I should be the accuser of my own husband !
but my duty to my king is above all. Welcome to your
royal chair, Cormac, son of Art. May your posterity never
be strangers to this royal house ! I lately saw my husband
sunk in thought and sadness, after I had found the place
of Prince Cairbre vacant in our rath ; and after much im-

72 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

portunity, which I used through loyalty and love to the
child of my king, he acknowledged that he had slain him.
at the instigation of Fergus Black Tooth, who had engaged
to raise him to power and the possession of mighty riches.
Before he opened his soul to me, 0 wise Cormac, he bound
me with solemn oaths to keep silence ; but my oath I re-
gard not in comparison of my duty to thy royal house."

" Sayest thou nought, 0 ! traitor," cried the enraged and
sorrowful father, " for thy defence, or by way of denial !
Eestore my son living, and any other design or deed shall
be pardoned thee ! " " Alas ! great and sage monarch, what
can I say ? The partaker of my every wish, my every de-
sire, my every thought, has denounced me. All my pos-
sessions are not worth the eric of Cormac's son : I must pay
it with my life." " But," said the sage Feihm, the king's
favourite brehon, " no man is called on to accuse himself,
and a woman's testimony is not admissible when her hus-
band's life hangs on a judge's word." Here the keen coun-
cillor observed a slight gesture of the lady, seeming to in-
vite a richly dressed, but cunning and vulgar-looking, person
to come forward. He accordingly gave evidence to the
effect that having to speak to Flaath, he was on the point
of entering the apartment where the confession had taken
place, and that having unintentionally heard a part of the
acknowledgment, he had considered it a duty he owed to
his king to get to the bottom of the treason. This seemed
conclusive. However Feilim of the Keen Faculties, by
careful sifting of this witness, made him acknowledge that
he was the son of a poor shepherd on the lands of Flaath,
that he had received many kindnesses from the prisoner,
that he had been finally promoted to the highest offices he
could procure him, that he had amassed riches, and possessed
flocks and herds, and that he was a frequent visitor at
Flaath's rath, and oftener in the absence than in the pre-
sence of its master. All these circumstances brought on the
head of the treacherous upstart the contempt of the assem-
bly ; and were there any hopes of the prince's safety the
witnesses would have probably been made victims of pub-
lic dislike ; but Flaath would make no revelation, and was
placed in secure custody, his wife and favourite being also

THE FORTUNES OF KING CORMAC. 73

obliged to occupy neighbouring apartments well guarded,
very much to their own surprise and disgust.

i^Tow the councillor had long known Flaath, and was
besides a keen observer of character ; he held a strong
opinion of his innocence, gave the sorrowful parents some
slight hopes of yet finding their son alive, and set himself
to acquire information bearing on the case. Flaath, in an
interview he held with him, would give no information
whatever ; and so, after examining the two witnesses apart,
he came to the conclusion that they had spoken the truth,
though with bad motives, or had made themselves thorough-
ly well up in a fabricated story.

Next morning he learned from Flaath's keeper that he
had offered him a large sum for conniving at big escape.
This sum, if the keeper agreed, was to be obtained from the
sister of the prisoner, in whose hands it had been deposit-
ed some time before for safety. The councillor directed
the keeper to seem to comply, and to send a trusty person
for the reward, as Flaath had proposed.

JSText day, he examined the keeper as to the result ot
yesterday's arrangement, and this was the report. Having
consented in appearance to the request of the prisoner, a
trusty messenger had been sent to his sister, requestiug
her to send the money deposited with her, in order to pro-
cure his means of escape ; but she not only denied having
ever received such deposit, but threatened to acquaint the
king with this new proceeding on his part, and denounce
the keeper for his share in the attempted escape.

Kext day was appointed for the final examination and
passing of judgment. In the afternoon, the friendly coun-
cillor received a message from Flaath requesting a visit.
He staid upwards of an hour in secret conference with him,
but nothing afterwards transpired to effect any change in
the position of the parties.

The court was assembled at an early hour, and the
witnesses repeated their accusations without the slightest
wavering from the former statement. Flaath being called
on for defence or explanation, declined to make any ; but
as sentence was about to be passed, Feilim, addressing the
presiding judge, said he had just been made aware of some

74 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

important facts which a witness in attendance was ready
to give. Consent being obtained, a side door was opened ;
and every face expanded with joy and surprise, when the
young prince, radiant with youth, joy, and beauty, flew
out and hastening forward, threw himself into the arms of
his father. As soon as he was released, he hastened to his
tutor, and testified the liveliest joy for having been in time
to save him from peril.

When quiet was restored, and the young prince had
gone to the apartments of the queen to banish her sorrow,
Cormac desired an explanation which, at a look from
Flaath, was afforded by the sage and good natured Feilim.

" Wise and just sovereign; if Flaath had not already been
well punished, I would demand a considerable eric to be
inflicted on him for his unexampled folly. The sage Fi-
thil, his father, being on his bed of death, charged his son
to observe these four requests, — never to take charge of a
prince, — never to entrust his wife with a secret involving
life or death,— never to entrust his sister with a large sum
of money, and never to advance a person of low birth or
habits to a place of honour and trust. Out of a blameable
curiosity to test the wisdom of these instructions, he broke
through them all, and only that he had had the precaution
to give the care of the prince to an upright friend, this
evening would have found him a headless corpse."

"And what, in your judgment, should be the punish-
ment of the false wife, and the false friend, and the false
sister ? " said the king. " With your approval, great Cor-
mac," was the answer, "let the sister resign the deposits,
let the churl be restored to his father's shealing, without a
cow, without a sheep, without a yoke of land ; set the false
wife sitting on the large stone before his door, and leave
their after punishment to themselves."

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN.

In the reign of this Cormac, one of the wisest of ancient
Irish kings (wise after the fashion of Ulysses, be it under-

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEX. 75

stood), and in the third century of our era, a cause of quar-
rel arose between him and the king of the southern part of
the island (i.e., all to the south of the Eiscir Madha, before
mentioned).

This King of the south, Fiacha by name, was born on
the same day with Cormac. Their fathers, i.e., Eogan of
Munster, and Art the Melancholy, were slain on the same
day, in the bloody battle of Macroom, fighting side by side
against Mac Con the ally of the foreigners. The two prin-
ces, of whom our tale will treat, were relations ; and both
were born after the death of their fathers. Yet these cir-
cumstances did not prevent one from making war on the
other. The causes and the circumstances of this war being
differently related by the dry annalists and by the poets,
we, for obvious reasons, take the latter pleasant authorities
for our guides.

Cormac was not only generous — he was lavish of gifts.
Frequently was his right hand in his pouch for the purpose
of flinging money to bard or soldier. Cloaks, drinking-
cups, shields, swords, serving- woinen, and cows were libe-
rally bestowed, and at a time when he was almost as poor,
by reason of the liberality exacted from every king and
chief, as one of his poorest bodachs, there came into his pre-
sence IMainne, the keeper of the royal herds ; and, at the
instigation of Crom or Phitus, he asked the distressed sove-
reign for a present of cows, more in number than I care to
mention. " Where am I to get them, you son of a short-
horned bull," said the perplexed king ; " and why did you
not apply before my yearly tributes were dispersed?"
Saying this, he retired into his inner room, and remained
there studying wisdom for three days and three nights,
without any satisfactory result.

At the end of that uncomfortable period, Mainne, the
keeper of cows, disturbed his solitude. " Cormac," said he,
" is it what I have asked that grieves you ? " " It is, in-
deed," was the answer. " Then, by your hand, my king, I
will soon relieve you. Have you made the circuit of
Erinn ] " "I have not." " Well, I have ; and out of the
five provinces, the two that belong to Fiacha give you but
the tributes of one ; and Fiacha, that rules them, is the

76 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

successor of Mac Con, son of Mac Nia, son of Lucha, wlio
slew your father in the field of Macroom ; and my advice is,
that you demand of the King of Leath Mocha that unpaid
tribute." " Blessings on you, Mainne ; that is a just de-
mand. You are no longer son of the bull, but son of good
counsel."

So eager was the embarrassed king to discharge his debt
to Mainne, that he would, without further ceremony, have
incontinently invaded Munster for his cattle spoil ; but Irish
and Gaulish monarchs enjoyed but very limited authority
over their farmers or fighting men. So he was obliged to
convene his Flaiths (chiefs) and Urmaidhes (tributaries), and
propose the subject. By their counsel, he despatched Tair-
reach the Traveller, and Bearrai the Rover, to Cnoc Ratfan,
near Cashel, then called Tulach na Ri^h (hill of the kings),
the regal abode of Fiacha. These worthies demanded, with
all suitable ceremony, that fifty cows with silver horns, as
well as the tribute of a province, should be forthwith for-
warded to King Cormac at Tara. Fiacha called his chief
people to him and stated Cormac's demand. He then
betook himself to his grianan or his garden, leaving refusal
or acceptance to the decision of his " best men." At the
proper time, he re-entered the hall of wise counsel, and
asked the result of their consultation. " To the king of
Tara," said they " we will (seeing that he is in a strait), make
a gift of a cow from every lios in Munster ; but the value
of a goat's ear we will not pay as tribute." " Had you
come to another resolution," said the king, " I would never
again lead you to battle, but go and dwell amongst a strange
people. But, lest these should prove unauthorized mes-
sengers, we will send our decision to Cormac, son of Art,
by Cuillean the Swift and Leithrinde the Robust."

The swift and robust messengers having reached Tara,
stood in the king's presence, and said, " Cormac, sovereign
of Leath Cuinn, Fiacha, king of Leath Mocha, desires to
know if Tairreach the Traveller and his companion have
been authorized by you to demand," etc. The result of
the debate which ensued was a declaration of war.

So Cormac summoned his five chief druids that had spo-
ken true prophecies through the reigns of Conn, Art, and

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 7 7

Cormac — namely, Cithach, Citbmor, Ceacht, Croda, and
Citlirua, and he bade them prophesy in truth what should
he the result of the expedition. They asked for time ; and
they went into the depths of their knowledge and learning,
and revelations were made to them, and they were brought
one by one before Cormac — viz., Citach, Citbmor, Ceacht,
Croda, and Cithrua, and all their prophecies pointed to the
one result. These are some of the verses they recited be-
fore the king's seat : —

** Cormac, son of Art, unjust is the claim.
Make not your bravery known for the sake of a herdsman.
It is not just to press on freemen
With warriors of the same race.
Sad to enter the land of Mocha.
Mouths will whiten, ravens will belch.''

But Cormac would not be turned from his purpose. And
as he was hunting near the siglie (fairy hill) of Cleithi, his
dogs swept after a hare which just rose before him, and a
fog, dark as night, surrounded him, and deep sleep fell on
him, and through his slumber he was enchanted with the
sweet music of the cuishliona (bag-pipes). It was the two
beautiful hands of the daughter of the king of the Sighe of
Bairce that he first saw when he awoke from his drowsiness.
Her gown was of gold tliread, and over it hung a beautiful
mantle ; and the first words that came from her red lips
were a reproach to Cormac for hunting a hare, instead of
the wolf, or stag, or wild boar. " But,'' said the maiden,
" I know what is nearest your heart, and I will supply you
with three female druidic champions, Eirgi, Eang, and
Eangan, daughters of Maol Miscadach. Each has the fight
of a hundred, and they are in the forms of three gray sheep,
with bony heads and jaws of iron. None can escape from
them, for they are as swift as the swallow, and all the
swords and axes in the world could not hurt them.

" And moreover, for the love I bear thee, I will give thee
the two renowned clruids, Colpa and Lurga, sons of Cicul.
They are gifted with all knowledge ; they are invulnerable,
and the whole people of a province shall fall before them."
So Cormac went with the lady into the sighe, and staid
tl.er 3 three days, and was bound in favour to her druids,

7 b THE BARDIO STORIES OF IRELAND.

men and women, and no more regarded the true revealers
of secrets, Cithach, Cithmor, Ceacht, Croda, and Cithrua.

So Cormac, taking with him the three druidesses — Eirgi,
Eang, and Eangan, and the two druids — Colpa and Lurga,
proceeded southwards. The tirst evening they set up their
tents in Cluain, and the next at Ath na Mrlann ; and at
the dark shades of evening on the third day, they reached
Formaoil na Fian. The fourth resting-place was Ath Cro,
and the fifth Imluich Iban.

At last they reached Cnoc na Ceann (hill of heads), called
afterwards the "Hill of Bellowing Oxen" (Knoc Long, near
Limerick), and there Cormac fixed to set up his royal tent,
and summon Leath Mocha for tribute. " Set up the pole
of my tent, 0 Cithrua," said he, " for this thou hast done
for my father and grandfather." And Cithrua essayed to
do it, and though his strength was as that of a score, yet
neither the brown clay nor the grass would admit the hard,
sharp point of the tent-pole. " Be this a last warning to
you, 0 Cormac, that your claim is unjust, and that you are
here to meet defeat from the host of Fiacha."

" Colpa," said Cormac, " hear you what Cithrua says ?
but I turn not back for the glaive of the hero, nor the
druid's wand of power. Set up the pole thyself." And
Colpa raised the tall, thick staff, and with the strength of
two score strong men he dashed it against the ground.
The brown earth and the green grass resisted it as a flat
rock, and the hard, tough wood was shivered into small
atoms.

" What's to be done now % " said Cormac. " This is to
be done," said Cithrua and the other druids ; " here are nu-
merous companies of men ; let them collect sods and cover
the hills, and so shall the royal tent be set up." This was
done. Three days and three nights were spent in settling
the camp, and Cithrua and his brothers were rebuked by
Colpa for their backwardness in helping out the designs of
Cormac ; but they said thay foresaw their own deaths, and
the defeat of Cormac in the expedition. " jSTor will you be
better off" said they. " Yourself, and Lurga, and the druid-
esses, Eirgi, Eang, and Eangan, will perish by the dread
power of Mocha Kuith, chief of living druids.''

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 79

At the end of three days messengers went to the king of
Leath jMocha, demanding cumhal (subjection) and tribute,
or single combat. Cumhal or tribute was refused, but a
single combat was offered on the third day. So the men
of Munster were marshalled in twenties. Every com-
mander of a score was equal in skill and valour to twenty
men, and every one of his warriors to nine. There was
Fionn's twenty, Feargus's twenty, Doncha's twenty, Bonn's
twenty, etc. . And Mocha Corb, son of Cormac Cas, son of
Oilioll Oluim, was to be their eulogizer ; and eight men and
twenty score marched to Ath Colpa, to meet the same
number from Leath Cuinn in strife and fierce battle.
Cairbre Liffeachair, son of Cormac, was to be the eulogizer
of the warriors from the north, but not a man of them
would put the right foot beyond the left, when the morning
of the fight lighted up the hills.

Then went on Colpa alone, and engaged the adverse
warriors at Ath Colpa, and fierce was the contest, and
powerful were the blows. "It was blow for blow they
dealt each other, and a reply to the reply." Three times
that day were his arms and armour forced from Colpa, and
his blows and his fury were only increased. Through the
wounds in Fionn's body you could see the sky, but still he
fought for three days, and then was slain.

And so Colpa, by going into the secrets of his knowledge,
and learning, and deviltry, and by putting confidence in his
gods, slew Fionn and his twenty men. Then did Lurga
maintain battle and conflict with Failve and his twenty
men ; and day after day the fight was fought, until eighty
and two hundred were slain of the men of Leath Mocha ;
and there was not a wound on the bodies of Colpa nor
Lurga so large as the tip of a fly's wing.

Then did Cormac demand the fight of three against three
hundred ; and Eirgi, Eang, and Eangan came to the ford
in the appearance of three gray sheep, with bony heads,
with iron jaws, with strength to destroy a hundred in the
day of battle, and the swiftness of swallows in flight. Yet
all the point and edge of the world could not cut wool nor
hair from them. And so did the warriors of the south
prepare each man his hard, red-spotted darts, his hard,

80 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

starry shield, his three heavy chloidhim (glaives), and his
ready spears, formed for performing deeds of destruction
and slaughter. And during all that first day they were
occupied in defending themselves against the charges of the
sheep, and striving in vain to pierce them with their sharp
darts, and the casts from their long, heavy, sharp lances, or
wound them with their sharp, cutting glaives ; hut not so
much as a tuft of wool or a lock of hair were they able to
shear away. Nor did the sheep do them more harm on
that day than break with furious blows from their hard,
bony heads the arms and armour of the warriors. And at
night both parties retired to their camps.

Next morning began the strife of death and destruction
for the men of the south. The loud, ringing, very heavy
blows of the swords on the bony heads of the sheep, and
the battering of the hard shields by the same heads, were
heard in the two camps, while the three druidesses charged
under them, over them, and through them, till the ford
was filled by the bodies, and the banks were covered by
them. And the sheep made a pile of the dead bodies, and
the silken shirts, and the arms, and the armour ; and those
who remained alive carried their dead brothers to the camp,
and all raised a loud shout of grief over the slain heroes.
But from that day forward the Munster men would no more
stand in battle array against the druids of Cormac, son of
Art.

Once more Cormac demanded tribute of the chiefs of
Fiacha, and they would not pay it ; and then he gave direc-
tions to his druids, and they entered into the depths of
their learning, and they had confidence in their gods, and
they breathed a strong druidical breath on the clouds, and
the heaths, and the spring heads ; and all the streams, and
rivers, and lakes in the south were dried up, and the men
were afflicted with unbearable thirst.

Then Cormac again demanded cumhal and tribute, and
it was refused, for they brought from all parts of Leath
Mocha, to the camp, curds and whey, and cheese ; and the
warriors were able to keep the life within them. At last
the druids got new orders from Cormac, and they flung a
baleful druidical bieath on the horses, and asses, and cows,

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 8 1

and sheep, and goats of Leath Mocha, and their milk was
stayed, and nothing was heard through the land but the
neighing, and lowing, and braying, and bleating, and sneez-
ing of the cattle.

The tribute was again asked, and again refused, for they
mixed the blood of the cattle with dew gathered from the
grass and the leaves before the sun rose. But at last the
warriors became as weak as infants of a week old, and
Fiacha finally agreed to pay cumhal and tribute.

Then did pride and haughtiness enter the heart of
Cormac, and he laid heavy tributes and burthens on the
people of Leath Mocha, so that were it not that death and
the doom of final fate waited at their doors, they would
not agree to the demand of the people of Leath Cuinn.

At this time Dil, grandfather to Fiacha, came to the
camp from liis fort of Druim Dil in the Desies ; and when
they told him their straits and their distress, he said to
them " There is only one man within the four seas of Erinn
that can relieve you, and that is Mocha Ruith, your foster-
father, 0 Fiacha, whose abode is in the Isle of Dairbre
(Valencia). There is no one within or without a sighe, that
can equal him in magic. But I am sure he will require a
fine tract of land, and will not choose to be a Roy Damhna
(successor elect) to this or the other prince, for he finds
himself too solitary and too confined in his island of wave-
beaten rocks. Said Fiacha and his chiefs — " Bring Mocha
Ruith to us, 0 Dil, and promise him whatever his soul or
heart desires."

So Dil went westwards, and nothing is said of his jour-
ney till he stood before Mocha Ruith ; and the man in-
quired, and the other answered, till the druid, deeply skilled
in magic, knew of the sufferings and the straits of the
people of the south country.

Then said Mocha " Great is the distress of the people of
AluimJie (Munster), and it is I only who can relieve them.
These are the things I demand, and Mocha Corb, son of
Cormac Cas, son of Oilioll Oluim, and Donn Dairine and
other princes must ensure their delivery ; that is to say one
hundred milch cows, one hundred swine, one hundred
oxen capable of labour, one hundred steeds with their

6

82 THE BARDIC STORIES OP IRELAND.

trappings, fifty handmaidens, and the daughter of the
second best man in Munster for my wife. I must get as
much land of my own choosing as my gioUa can walk
round in a day, and be appointed master of the riddhairs
(chevaliers) of Leath Mocha. I am also to be the king's
chief adviser, and my son, and his son, and all my direct
heirs are to enjoy these rights after me."

So Dil returned to the camp, and told all that the man
of deep knowledge had said ; and Mocha Corb, and Donn
Dairine, and the other sureties, arose and proceeded to the
dwelling of Mocha, and he entertained them with the best,
and he and they bound themselves to each other in words
of poetry, and then he prepared for his journey.

Mocha Eua desired his disciple, Ceanvar, to bring him
his travelling equipage, that is to say, his two fair straight-
horned oxen from Slia Mish, and his handsome, strong,
mountain-ash chariot, with its spokes of bronze, and many
carbuncle stones — and night and the light of day were alike
to those who were in it, and his shining sword, and his
yew-tree bow, and his two well-made spears, and his un-
manned bull's hide in his chariot, on the sides and on the seat
beneath him, and his host of one hundred and thirty follow-
ers along with him.

As they journeyed eastwards these nobles asked him who
would choose land and territory for him, and he answered,
" To no living person will I entrust that but to myself ;
give me the earth of each country we pass through, and I
will choose the best by its smell, and I will blame no one
for the choice, be it good or be it bad/'

They came to Glen Beithve, in the country of Corca
Duine, and he put the earth of it to his nose and liked not
its smell ; and in like mode he tried and rejected the earth
of sundry tracts of land, till he came to Fermoy. On the
earth of this country being brought to him, he said these
words, choosing it as his reward : —

" Woody mountains, woody plains !
A plain abounding in pleasant streams,

With large rivers, with rivulets, where hunts were arranged ;
Where will be multiplied generations,
Hosts, assembHes, mighty men of wounds,
Warriors of pointed arms — iron xmder them, iron on them ;
VaUant men of Leath Mocha ! "

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 83

Mocha Ruith then began rooting up the ground in search
for the water, and he began this poem : —

*' I pray for pleasant, flowing streams — ye gods be willing ;
I pray for well-tasted springs north-west in Munster ;
I pray for cooling cascades — water that time will not diminish."
* * * * *

When this was over the water burst the fastnesses of the
earth, and great was its noise ; and he told them all to save
themselves from the waters. And Ceanvar on seeing the
waters floodmg forth, pronounced an exultant charm on
them, and prophesied all the benefit they would bring to
Fiacha and his long- enduring and heroic warriors.

Mocha Ruith invited the king to drink, the flaiths to drink,
the keepers of large herds and owners of fertile lands to
drink, and the common people and their cattle to drink ;
and they went to the water in groups and in companies, and
they all stooped down, both men, and steeds, and herds, un-
til they were satisfied. After this the water was let flow
to all the people, and it was let flow through the glens, and
rivers, and springs of the province, and the magic spell that
was laid on them was removed.

After this the men of Munster raised their shout of tri-
umph, and it w^is heard in the camp of Cormac ; and mes-
sengers were sent to say that neither ransom nor tribute
would be given to the king of Leath Cuinn. They were
seized with wonder when they saw the floAving of the
waters ; but their fright and terror was very great when
Mocha raised a clear druidic cloud between the two camps,
and magnified his own form through it. His head appeared
like a high hill covered with wood, his eyes like two fires,
and his mouth a dark cavern.

If they were terrified at this druidic appearance of Mocha,
the terrors of desolation were on them when they saw his
foster-brother, Gaura, sister's son to Beanbuanane, the
druidess, walking round their high camp. He made his
hair like the firs on a hill. His dress was hung all over
with the teeth, and bones, and horns of wild deer, and rams,
and boars, and he swung an iron club in his right hand,
and he gave three deafening screams that turned the blood
in the men of Leath Cuinn to cold ice.

6*

84 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

The camp of Cormac had been raised by the sods ga-
thered by the soldiers, aiid by the draoidheacht (magic) of
Colpa and Lurga, to a great height; and the troops of
Leath Mocha could not see what was passing therein. So
now they besought Mocha to reduce its pride and its ele- -
vation, and he pronounced this charm against it : —

"I subdue, I subdue ramparts, I subdue clouds of darkness ;
I subdue enchantment, I subdue magic spells and deeds ;
I unseat hill off hill till they lie beneath my feet."

The hill soon went to nothing in dark clouds and wreaths
of mist ; and it was terrifying to hear the bellowing of the
oxen, the rushing of the steeds, and the smashing of arms,
as the hill swiftly sunk to its base. Then Cormac re-
proached his druids, and Colpa went forth with his iron-
rimmed shield, with his two-edged, heavy glaive, that shot
light from its blade, and with his two black, smoky, very
ponderous lances, and by his magic he made himself of
gigantic size. Cairbre Liffeachair came with him to sing
his praises, till they stopped at the ford of Raheen an Ima-
raig (fort of ravaging).

When the w^arriors of Leath Mocha saw the dark, threat-
ening form coming to the ford, they called on Mocha Euith,
and he forthwith armed and equipped his best man, Cean-
var, to meet the druidic champion. He put on him his star-
sparkling shield, his broad-bladed, very heavy sword, and
he gave his two precious spears into his hands ; and Mocha
Corb was selected as before to witness his deeds and extol
liis heroism. AVhen they were setting off to the ford. Mocha
Euith called out to Ceanvar — "Bring me my stone of
power, and my hand-stone, and my combatant of a hundred,
and the slaughterer of my enemies. '^ And it was brought
to him ; and he was praising it and putting spells on it,
and he composed this poem : —

" I beseech my hand-stone that will break helmets in valiant fight,
My strong flaming stone, be a red watery serpent.
Woe to him around whom thou twinest !
Be a serpent of nine folds round the body of Colpa.
Be a briar rough and strong, my brave, faithful stone !
Woe to Colpa and Lurga when thou enfoldest them !
Let their bodies be imder dogs in the red ford of slaughter ! "

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 85

This dniidic stone was put into Ceanvar's hand by Mocha
Euith, and he was told its use and it-s power ; and Colpa
did not see his foe till he came to the edge of the ford.
Then Ceanvar put the Lia Milidh (hero's stone) into the
water, and it became a fierce, rough, very formidable ser-
pent, and it glided through the water to meet Colpa.
When Ceanvar's foot touched the bed of the stream, he be-
came, by the spells of his master, a huge stone in the centre
of the water, and the substance of that stone took his shape,
and defied the druid of Leath Cuinn. Colpa rushed on to
meet it, and the gash he made in the hard stoney shape
with his large heroic sword would have held in its lips the
body of a full-grown child. Then did the serpent seize on
Colpa, and locked his body in nine folds, and three times
they struggled round the ford, and for every two times
they fell Colpa was one time uppermost. At last the ser-
pent forced away Colpa' s arms and armour, and getting
one fold under him and another over him, and striking
him on the forehead, hurled him to the bottom of the
stream. Said Mocha Corb to Ceanvar, " Wilt thou quit
the ford without any trophy to show thy prowess and thy
victory to Fiacha, to Mocha Kuith, and to the warriors of
Leath Mocha ]" Then arose Ceanvar from his enchanted,
shapeless form, and with a mighty blow from the heavy,
sparkling glaive of Mocha Euith, he smote the head of
Colpa from his body. To the bank he came staggering,
and there he fell into a death-resembling swoon ; and Mocha
Corb bore the fear-causing head of the druid to the camp ;
and from that time the name A th Colpa has remained on
the ford.

" Why is not Ceanvar the bearer of the head of Colpa V
said Mocha Euith. " He lies in a weakly swoon at the
ford," said Mocha Corb. " That is a pity," said Mocha
Euith. " Had he brought me the head of the fierce druid
of Leath Cuinn, no warrior with arms and armour should
ever overcome one of his race in single fight. And because
you have filled his duty, your descendants shall sit in the
royal chair of the south, and victory in the fight of two
men shall ever be theirs ! When the head of Colpa was
seen by the warriors of Fiacha they raised a shout of joy

86 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

and triumph ; but the shout that went up from the camp
of Cormac was full of anger and very deep sorrow.

Next day Lurga came to the ford, and Ceanvar went to
meet him with the champion-stone and the charmed spears
of Mocha Euith. Deep was his dread of the wise and va-
liant Lurga ; and as he went, thus he did. He began prais-
ing and beseeching his hand-stone, and prophesying the
destruction it would make ; and he put his confidence in
his gods, and in the arch-druid of the world ; and he said : —

" Stone flag, stone of friendship, without deceit ;
Slender, thin stone, choice arm of destruction ;
Stone of reward, stone of victory ;
Stone of great injury, stone of colours ;
Friendship of Munster-men, without disgrace !
A stone that triumphs is my stone."

When the champions met in the ford, they gave blow for
blow to each other, and reply to the reply. They grasped
each other with the might of heroes, and twisted and
swayed each other, and at last the strength of the battle-
stone, and the conqueror of a hundred went between them.
The enchantment of hosts, the great valiant eel (viz., the
magic hand-stone) whose name was Mongach, passed be-
tween them ; and she flew at Lurga as she did at Colpa ;
and when she touched him the draoideacht qnitted his body,
and he became like another man. Then did Ceanvar rush
at him with the magic blade of Mocha Euith, and separated
his head from his body ; and no more was seen of Lurga.

While the battle was going on, the armies were looking
at it from the heights, and praying to their gods for the
victory. But when the monster slew Lurga, she went in
pursuit of Cairbre Liffeachair, and to slay the hosts of Cor-
mac ; and Ceanvar followed, curbing her, and speaking to
her, and telling her that it was displeasing to the men of
ISIunster to have her in pursuit of the enemy without jus-
tice, and to lose their honour thereby ; and he uttered these
verses to her : —

"Stop, Muinceach Maeth-Eeamhar, you monster !
You broad, proud, slender thing, you brown otter !
You red, fiery tongue with the flaming mouth ;
Powerful, black-clouded, breath-like mist on high moimtains !

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 87

Let the fair youth depart : it was not to fight he came.
He oppressed not the free-born round Fiacha Muilleathain.
Darling of the royal druid, return to thy first disposition ;
Lie on the smooth hand of the great Mocha Ruith ! "

Hereon she resumed her own shape and appearance again,
and Cairbre went northwards to his people unmolested;
and nothing more was done until morning.

At that time the three druidesses, Eirgi, Eang, and Ean-
gan, came to the ford in the likeness aforesaid — that is, as
three gray sheep, with hard, bony heads, with iron jaws,
with the speed of swallows, with the power of a hundred
in the hour of battle and slaughter. " Mild man of years,"
(Mocha Euith, to wit) said the men of Munster, " here are
coming three enemies in the shape of gray sheep, and a
hundred armed warriors are invariably slain by them in
battle." " I will defend you from them," said Mocha
Ruith, " and be not dismayed. Where are the three magic
talismans which I gave you "?" said he to Ceanvar. " I have
them," replied he ; " the fire-stone, the sand-stone, and the
sponge." Mocha struck the fire-stone on the sand-stone,
and the spark that flew out fell on the sponge. Then did
he pass the stones through the fire, and he muttered words
of draoideacht over them, and then extinguished the flame.
He then passed them through the hands of Ceanvar, and
they were laid on the ground. " What see you now ? " said
he to Ceanvar ; and he answered, " Two bitches and a dog-
hound are made of them." He then turned their heads
northward towards the sheep. They were weak as young
whelps at first, but the nearer the sheep approached, the
more did the size, eagerness, and strength of the hounds
increase. Mocha Ruith said, " How do the sheep appear?"
" They come," said Ceanvar, " displaying their jaws ; the
oldest sheep in front, and the youngest in the rear." " And
the hounds '?" " They are lilte whelps opening their eyes,
and it is the sheep they gaze at." " How are the sheep
now 1 " " They are sweeping towards us — two in front and
one in the rear. And now they are like three mighty oxen
under one hard equal yoke, and swiftly, and powerfully,
and preparedly they come to the battle." " And the dogs ] ' *
" Their ears are raised, so is the hair on their necks ; and

bo THE BAKDIC STORIES OP IRELAND.

they hold down their heads, with their mouths shut."
" Those are their gifts ; for if they opened their mouths, evil
powers would steal their forces. Therefore it is with closed
mouths they do victorious deeds. How now 1 " " They
have become large, strong, and fierce. They are rushing
forwards ; they are at Eaheen an Lnaraig on this hank, and
the sheep in the rath on the other bank, and they are ex-
amining each other."

Then burst flames from the breasts of the sheep, and
burned up the grass and the bushes on each side of the ford,
and both parties began the fight with showers of stones and
earth, which they flung at each other across the fOrd. After
a while the male dog sprung across and seized the largest
sheep, and his companions each seized one, and the flames
they blew from their mouths left neither lock of hair nor
tuft of wool which they did not consume. But the fire
which flashed from the sheeps' breasts did no harm to the
dogs ; for when Mocha Euith first came to the host of
Munster, he blew a weighty druidical breath on the air,
which drew all the magic power from the wise and power-
ful men of Leath Cuinn.

So the sheep, finding themselves bereft of their magic
powers, mightily smote the ground with their feet, as is the
manner of their tribe when they wish to strike terror iuto
their enemies, but the enchanted dogs regarded them not.
So they turned and fled, and ceased not till they came to
Dubhcaire, and sunk into the depths and bowels of the
earth. Down after them went the dogs, and they ceased
not till they ate up the sheep to the smallest bone. Then
they leaped up to the level of the earth, and they went
westwards into Munster; and all the mad dogs through
Erinn have sprung from these druidical hounds of Mocha
Euith, and all the mad dogs that shall be for ever.

The two armies of the south and the north were looking
from the hills on the fierce battle of the dogs and the sheep,
and sad and spiritless was the army of Leath Cuinn, and
their king. "To my grief," said Cithrua, "is Leath Mocha
glad to-night ; I would rather my own house were burning.
And you," said he to Cormac, " must fly in the battle, and
thousands will be slain. And it will not be better for my

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. bg

brothers and myself, for we shall be changed into grey
stones by Mocha Euith when he comes in pursuit. Alas
for us and for Leath Cuinn to-night ! "

" Prophesy for lis something joyful, 0 Cithrua ! " said
Cormac, " for you were my grandfather's and my father's
chief druid ; and we are not here by your advice, and to
you we have not given due honour." "I have no prophecy,"
said Cithrua, " but that wliich I prophesied before — flight
and disgrace to yon, and death to my brothers and myself."
" Go to Mocha Euith/' said Cormac, " and remind him that
his father and grandfather were of Leath Cuinn, and offer
him the sovereignty of Uladh, and the tribute of the sons
of Uisneach, and a cow from every lios from Teamur to
Carrig na Bracuidhe, three hundred steeds, three hundred
cups, three hundred mantles, and the honour of being on
my right hand when drinking."

Cithrua goes with this message, and he finds Mocha
Euith on the eve of his departure for the sighe of Bean
Buan Aine, his foster-mother ; and he took him aside, and
reminded him of his old relationship with the nobles of
Leath Cuinn, and entreated him not to bring that country
into trouble and slavery. He then made him the off'ers as
he had received them from Cormac. " I ought to be severe
npon them," said Mocha Euith, " and I would not forsake
my ward, Fiacha, for all the gold that is on the earth ; and
if Munster contained but Mocha Corb alone, I would not
give up his friendship." So Cithrua returned to thccamp ;
and sad and sorrowful were Cormac and his warriors when
Cithrua told his news. But Mocha Euith departed for the
sighe of Bean Buan Aine the druidess, and he stayed with
her a day and a night ; and she gave him advice as to the
order and mode of battle in which the men of Leath Mocha
would fight with the men of Leath Cuinn.

We are now to speak of Cormac's doings. He asked
Cithrua if he had any relief for the army. " I have not
any," said Cithrua, " but to make a druidical fire. Let the
army go to the wood, and bring wild ash with them, for in
that the power of our art is, and in likelihood it will be
answered from the south. When the fires kindle let all be
watching, and if they turn to the south, I do not advise

pO THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

you, 0 Cormac, to follow farther the men of Munster; and
if the fires turn towards the north, then betake yourselves
to flight." Then the army went to the wood, and they
brought bundles of wild ash with them to the camp.

The men of Munster on seeing this, said to Mocha Euith,
" ]\rild man, what is that which Leath Cuinn is doing 1 "
" Making great piles of wild ash they are, not less than the
hill we levelled for them." "Truly," said the men of
Munster, " it is right to answer that, for Cormac has turned
to his own druids, and that is an enchanted fire which they
have made." Said Mocha Euith, "Let all go to Caill
Leathard, southwards, and let not your gathering be less,
and every man bring a bundle of branches with him. But
let Fiacha go alone, and bring an armful with him from the
moist side of the mountain where are the three shelters,
that is, the shelter from the red March wind, shelter from
the sea wind, and shelter from the scorching wind, in order
that the fire may blaze at the first kindling." When every
man had his bundle of boughs of the mountain-ash, they
all returned to the camp ; and Mocha gave instructions to
Ceanvar for the construction and kindling of the heaps.

Then Mocha Euith directed every warrior to cut a thin
chip from his spear-shaft, and all these chips he rolled into
a ball, and said : —

" I mix a blazing powerful fire ;
It will thin the woods, it will wither the grass,
A powerful blaze — enough its speed ;
It will soar upwards, a heavenly stream."

And he put to it fire struck from his druidic fire-stone,
and it blazed forth with a great flame and a great noise, and
he spoke words of power as the first flash burst forth.

" A victory will be given me this time," said Mocha Euith.
" Prepare my chariot, and let every warrior be at the side
of his steed. And if the fire turn northwards let all pursue,
and let delay be avoided; but if the wind turn south, shel-
ter yourselves from your foes, and give them battle in the
glens, passes, and fastnesses of the province." He brought
a thick, gloomy cloud overhead, and drops of blood were
falling from it, and he sung this poem : —

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 9 I

"A man in a mist, in a cloud's strength.
Let there be drops of blood on the grass !

Bruised will be hosts ; be there trembling on the race of Conn !
May each strength from the south be there."

While he made the incantation, the shower of blood
passed over Claire (the site of Cormac's camp), and thence
to Teamur, and the hosts of Conn were dismayed.

There were then woods and extensive forests in middle
Munster, and the two contending fires were contending
above them, and Mocha asked, " How are the fires ] " They
answered, " They are jostling one another along the moun-
tain ridges, and down to Druim na Sail, and to the Sionan."
Again he asked, " How are the fires] " and they answered,
" They are as before, and they will not leave unburned tree
or grass on the middle plain of Munster." And that tract
has been a plain ever since. Mocha Euith again asked,
" How are the fires 1 " and they replied, " They have as-
cended to the firmament and the clouds of heaven, and they
are like two powerful, robust heroes, or two fierce lions
combating each other."

Then was brought to Mocha his raw bull's hide, his bird-
headed steed, and his enchanted dress, and he began urging
the fire northwards, and he chanted a druidic spell, and
Cithrua acted in the same way on the other part. But
Mocha forced the fires northward, over Cormac's camp, and
the power of Cithrua, and of his druids, and of his fairy
host was at an end. Then did he marshal Cormac's host
for retreat by battalions, and dispose the shield-bearers in
the rear. The army of Leath Cuinn went homewards, for
their druids would not allow them to stay and give battle,
but they exhorted them to defend their lives like valiant
men when assailed.

Mocha Euith mounted his fair-covered chariot, to which
were harnessed fierce, powerful oxen, with the speed of the
March wind and of wings, with the raw bull's hide laid
thereon. He went in front of the warriors, and he ap-
pointed Ceanvar to excite the men of Munster in the pur-
suit. When they came to Ard Cluain na Feinne (upland
plain of the Tianna), they were even with the rear-guard
of Leath Cuinn ; and they attacked them from the east and

92 THE BARDIC ST0RIE3 OF IRELAND.

the south, and they went through them, and across them,
as dogs through a flock of sheep, and slew them as far as
Magh-lNTuachter (in Upper Ossory).

Here Mocha Ruith asked, though he was in front, " ^Tio
is before us here "? " And well he knew. " There are three
grey old men," replied they; " and those are Ceacht, Croda,
and Cithrua." "My gods have promised me," said he,
" that when I would overtake them, and blow my breath
on them, they would become grey stones. So he blew a
druidical breath on them, and they became stones ; and it
is these that are called Leacha Raidhne at this day.

From that place and that hour, Mocha became more
arrogant and more powerful, and he did not allow them to
stop till they reached Sliav Fuaid, where Fiacha's pavilion
was erected ; and to this day it is called Folia Fiacha
(Fiacha's people).

Leath Cuinn here offered such tribute hostages and rent
as Leath Mocha might impose on them. Neither Mocha
Euith, nor ]\[ocha Corb, nor Fiacha would accept it from
them till they had been two months, two quarters, and two
years in the north. Moreover, they would then receive no
terms until Cormac himself should come to offer them at
the house of Fiacha. And as Cormac was unable to defend
himself, or to save his country from being wasted and plun-
dered, he came and gave them rent and tribute.

Fiacha and his men arose, and they marched homewards ;
and nothing is told of their adventures till they reached
Cnoc Eaffan, the royal fort. After this, the men of
Munster asked Mocha about the loss the north and south
had suffered ; and he uttered this poem : —

' ' Of the men of Munster were slain by magic arts,
Five druids of Cormac who uttered charms on Leath Mocha.
I made three shapely hounds to slay the valiant sheep ;
I made an eel under water to destroy Colpa and Lurga ;
I sent fires northwards into Leath Cuinn of hard swords ;
I reduced the children of Conn of the Hundred Fights,
So that they possessed but the strength of a seemly woman.
The battle was not won over Leath Cuinn by swords,
But by bringing the end of life on their learned men.
Of Cormac's army four hundred fierce giollas
Were slain, fiercely fighting, between Formaoil and Eaidhne.

THE HILL OF BELLOWING OXEN. 93

Croda, Ceacht, Cithrua, of the plain, —

Druids of the court of Conn Cead Cuthach,

Were overcome in the plains of Raidhne,

And their seemly bodies converted to hard stone —

Hard druidic stones standing like monuments —

Upright dallans, to endure to the end of time.

And this was the loss of Leath Cuinn, without gainsaying

Warriors that perished by the sons of Oilioll Oluim.

From the fort of Bellowing Oxen to far Sligo,

No such feats were ever achieved in one day

By Fians, of deeds of valour and bravery."

THE TREACHERY OF CONLA.

After these things, the chiefs of Leath Mocha departed
from the royal fort of Ciioc Eaffan to their several duns
and lioses ; and Cormac returned to Teamur, bringing with
him Conla, son of Fiacha's uncle, whom by treaty he was
to educate, and entertain at his court. Conla grew up, and
learned the skill, and accomplishments, and duties of a
curadh, and great was his fame through Erinn, till he used
violence towards a beauteous woman of the sighe of Loch
Gabhar. She afterwards asked of him a boon, and she re-
quested that he would enter the sighe where her people
were ; but he would not. " Then, at least, come opposite
the mound, with your face turned towards it." This he
did ; and while her tribe had their eyes on him, she told
them his crime. " Wilt thou make her satisfaction V
said they ; and his refusal was given. " Then," said they,
"you have abused our hospitality, and a blight shall you
suffer while life endures." They blew their breath on him,
and a scurf of leprosy fell upon him — head, face, and body.
He repented deeply in his soul for the wrong he had
wrought, and thus returned to the palace of Cormac.
Cormac looked at Conla and wept. " Why do you weep,
Cormac V asked Conla. " For the greatness of my grief,"
replied Cormac, " that you should be in that state, and for
my great love for you. Also it is by you I boped to
avenge my wounds on Fiacha, in defending the sovereignty
of Munster for you." " Have you heard of anything that

94 THE BARDIC STOBIES OP IRELAND.

•will cure this disorder ?" asked Conla, " Though I have
heard it/' replied Cormac, " you could not get it." " What
is it V asked Conla. ** The blood of a noble king," replied
Cormac. " Who is he?" asked Conla. " Fiacha ISIuilleathan
is the noble," replied Cormac ; " but it would be treachery
in you to kill him. However, if you were to procure it, it
would relieve you." "I prefer the death of a friend," said
Conla, " to be in this condition, were I but certain of the
cure." Cormac swore an oath that it was true, and Conla
said he would make the trial,

Conla thereupon went to Cnoc Eaffan to the house of
Fiacha. Fiacha was greatly grieved to see him in that
condition. He bade him welcome and sought remedies.
He gave him the third of his confidence, and Conla's bed
was as high as Fiacha' s, and it was he who brought and
carried stories to and from him. They lived a long time
thus, and he used to go in and out along with him, and
Fiacha was often alone in his company ; and so it was till
they came one day to the bank of the Suire.

Here Fiacha prepared to bathe, and he threw off his
clothes, and left his broad shining spear on the bank with
Conla. Conla treacherously took up the spear, and thrust
it through Fiacha, to where the wood and the bronze met.
" Alas ! " said Fiacha, " grievous to friendship is that deed,
and at the instigation of foes has it been done. Eathe as
you have been told, but it will avail you nothing, and
pleasing to your foes will be this deed." And that was the
cause of the death and the fate of Fiacha Muilleathan, King
of Munster.

Where that deed was done was at Ath Leathan (ford of
Leathan) which is now called Ath Isiul (Athassel ; ford of
treachery) from the foul deed of Conla. Conla derived no
relief from his crime ; and it was hunger and leprosy that
caused his death, for none of the race of Eogan would allow
him into their houses, scorning to revenge the deed in any
other manner.

Our readers must not take in trust the evil that is here attributed
to King Cormac. They may take for granted that he invaded Mun-
ster without reasonable cause, and suffered a deserved defeat ; but they
must acquit him of the treacherous advice given to Conla. The rhap-

THE TREACHERY OF CONLA. 95

sody was v^Titten by a poet of Leath Mocha, who showed no justice
to the "natural enemies" of his half of the island. The original of
the wild tale forms a portion of the Booh of Lismore, which was dis-
covered in a walled up niche of that castle during alterations in 1814.
A valuable treatise in the book is that called " Agallamh na Seano-
rach" (Dialogues of the Sages), a supposed conference between
Cseilthe, Oisin, and St. Patrick. The two warriors having been pre-
served in life about 150 years beyond the natural span, gave the saint
much curious information concerning various localities, and those who
once dwelt in them. Had the Ossianic Society been well supported,
and the oflBcers been indued with courage, this and other valuable
MSS. would have long since seen the light.

The tale is given in the abstract, and with many omissions, but
the phraseology is fairly preserved.

THE DISPUTED CLAYMORE.

King Cormac was assisted in his councils by Fithil, descen-
dant of the wise and just Moran. King and councillor
were worthy of each other, if Cormac corresj)onded to the
description of his personal appearance preserved in the
Book of Ballymote, as he attended at a feis in his palace
of Tara.

" Magnificently did Cormac come to this great meeting ;
for his equal in beauty had not appeared, excepting Co-
naire, son of Etirscel or Conchobhar, son of Cathbadh,
(King Conor) or ^ughus, son of the Daghda. Splendid
indeed was Cormac's appearance in that assembly. His
flowing hair was slightly curled and of a golden hue. He
had a red shield with engraved devices, golden hooks, and
silver clasps. He wore a purple, wide-folding garment
with a gem-set gold brooch at the breast ; a golden torque
encircled his neck. He wore a white, cold-excluding shirt,
with red embroidery, A golden girdle with gems of pre-
cious stones about him : two golden network sandals with
buckles of gold adorned his feet. Two golden-socketted
spears with rivets of bronze were in his hand. He was
moreover shapely, fair, without stain or blemish. You
would think that a shower of pearls had been shed in his
mouth. His lips were like rubies. Whiter than snow was
his fair shapely body. Like the mountain-ash berry on

g6 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

Sein Sleibh were his cheeks. His eyes were Hke the sloe ;
his eye-brows and eye-lashes like the glistening of a blue
lance. Such then the form and appearance in which Cor-
mac went to liis great assembly."

The present tale has nothing to do with the monarch's
public life or presidency in his parliaments. Like other
wise rulers in troublous times he held hostages from his
tributary kings, and among the rest, Socht, son of Fithil,
son of Aenghus, son of — Adam, This Socht possessed a
wonderful sword ; its hilt carved silver ; its ward pure gold.
It would bear its point to be brought round to the hilt, and
when freed, spring back like an ash bow. In the dark it
flashed out light. It would cut a hair placed on the water ;
it would sweep a hair from the head without touching it.
It was suspected to be the cruaidin coiditchearn (hsLttle steel)
of Cuchulainn. It was an heirloom of Socht's family, of
priceless value.

A noble at that time in Tara, Duibhrean, son of Uirgrean,
saw this weapon, and coveted it. He asked Socht to give
it him, and, in return, he and four of his following should
be provided Avith the evening meal each future day of his
life, and have, besides, his own award of its value. Socht
declared that he could not think of selling for any consider-
ation the heir-loom of his clan and family ; but Duibhrean
ceased not to importune him for the weapon ; he could
think or speak of nothing else. One evening when they
were drinking together, the chief directed his attendant to
ply his guest with the wine and the mead ; and he did
this, and to such purpose, that Socht was overpowered,
and heavy slumber fell on him. While this lasted, Duibh-
rean sent for the King's armourer, and said to him, "Essay
to open the hilt of this sword." " I will not only try, but
do it," said the artificer, and by the exercise of skill he
had soon the carved silver haft laid open. On the hollow
side of one of the pieces, he found engraved in the oghuim,
" The sword of Socht, son of Fithil." On the other were
cut some older characters, which the chief would not take
the time to decipher. The artificer, by his order, set at
work, and erased the inscription, and in its place he cut in
the soft silver, " The sword of Duibhrean, son of Uirgrean."

THE DISPUTED CLAYMORE. p^

The job being completed, tbey were proceeding to search
out the sense of the other inscription, but Socht was begin-
ning to move, and show signs of waking. So the armourer
fastened the two portions of the hilt, and quitted the room,
after receiving his award.

Next day Duibhrean again importuned Socht to part with
his weapon, but he received the same answer as before ; and
then he called in witnesses, and thus spoke before them : —
"In presence of these duine nasals, I demand of you, 0
Socht, son of Fitliil, son of ^nghus, to deliver into my
possession that bright, two-edged, silver-hafted sword, which
belonged to my grandfather, and to my father after him,
and then to myself, and of which I should have possession,
but for your unjustly detaining it after its being demanded
by me more than three times." " I call on the sun, the
moon, and the winds to witness," said Socht, " that the
sword has been in the possession of my ancestors for five
generations, and I refuse to accede to your demand." '-Then
I summon you," said the other, "to appear to-morrow before
Cormac, and Fithil, his cliief brehon, and then and there
to resign the sword to me, if I prove my claim to its owner-
ship." " I will appear, and prove your claim to be with-
out necessity or justice," said Socht.

Next day, Socht, son of Fithil, and Duibhrean, son of
Uirgrean, attended in the Midchuarta of Tara before Cor-
mac the Ard-Righ, Fithil, his chief brehon, and chiefs and
ollamhs in great number, for all had seen the much-prized
weapon, and all knew the chiefs between whom the con-
tention lay. Duibhrean, adjuring the gods and the king's
life that the bright weapon lying naked on the table beside
its sheath had belonged to his ancestors, and now to him-
self, besought judgment to be made, and his precious heir-
loom restored to him. Fithil, receiving a sign from the
king to examine into the rights of the contention, demanded
of Socht if the claim made by his opponent was founded in
justice. He denied it, and asserted that the sword had come
to himself as fifth in regular descent, and had never been
out of the possession of its lawful owners. Then the brehon,
turning to the claimant, the following demands and replies
ensued : — " When was the weapon last in the possession of

7

go THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

your ancestors or yourself 1 " " My father, Uirgrean, used
the blade in seven battles, and in my youth it was stolen
from our lios." "How do you recognise the weapon?"
"By the length, the breadth, the silver hilt, the golden
guard, and the patterns wrought on them." " The pos-
sessor, Socht's, word is set against yours ; he is in possession,
therefore the task of proof rests with you. What you have
yet said is without weight ; it is balanced by the defender's
declaration." " Let the haft of the sword be opened, and
if an inscription to the effect that it was my father's pro-
perty and mine also, be not found within, I give up my
claim." "Know you how to take the hilt asunder?"
" Certainly ; but it requires the skill of the artificer. If
the royal armourer be summoned, T will give him directions."
The armourer came, and seeming to receive instructions, he
easily separated the two portions of the hilt, one of which
remained fastened to the blade. These were laid before the
brehon. He took up the loose portion, and said aloud,
" There is inscribed within the cavity 'The sword of Duibh-
rean, son of Uirgrean.' This seems to establish the right
of the appellant. What have you to say, O Socht, the de-
fender in this action ? " " What I say is ; by your hand
and the hand of Cormac, I read on the same spot not six
moons since, ' The sword of Socht, son of Fithil.' Allow
me another look." It was granted, and his eyes opened
wide in wonder and vexation. " Know you, 0 Duibhrean,"
continued Fithil, " the corresponding wiiting within the
other piece, and its drift," and he fixed his dark eyes sternly
on the appellant. "I took no notice of any other than the
one inscription, 0 learned Fithil." " Then I request you
to read it now aloud in the hearing of alL" He took the
piece with a trembling hand, and appeared to examine the
inscription. At last he said, " I am sorry to own want of
skill to decipher this antique carving." "Then," said Socht,
" at the risk of paying a heavy eric I shall tell its import.
* The blade of Cuchulainn, by which the life of Conn of the
hundred battles was taken.' " " The eric thou shalt pay
without doubt," said the king, " but still retain my esteem.
As for you," said he to Duibhrean, " you shall never more
grasp weapon more noble than the tool of the craftsman or

THE DISPUTED CLAYMORE. 99

the labourer, and your associate be degraded to the lowest
office in the shealin of the smne herd."

To "W. M. Hennessy, Esq., M.R.I. A., the able editor and transla-
tor of some of our valuable ancient chronicles, I owe the substance of
this curious legend, as well as that of " Cliona of Munster."

-?'♦♦»<

KING CORMAC IN FAIRY LAND.
Man AN AN was the brother of Fionula, see the " Four
Swans/' and, like other personages of this mythic race,
seems to have been exempt from decay. At his apparent
death he passed into the sighe condition. His full style
and title w^as " Mananan Mac Lir, Sighe na Cernac," —
Mananan, son of Lear, Fairy Chief of the Headlands. His
chief personal accompaniments and other properties were —
the.cranTi hui (yellow shaft — spear), the moraltha (large
fierce one — sword), the heagaltlca (small fierce one), the Ga
Dearg (red javelin), his horse Inbhear, and his boat curadh
curuchain. He made it his particular care to defeat the
efforts of the foreign invaders, the Fomorach, or African
pirates, and always aided the native heroes, w^hether Da-
naans or Milesians, in their patriotic efforts. Dairmuidh,
the hero of the beauty spot, being obliged by geasa laid on
him by Grainn^ to carry her away from her bridegroom,
Fionn, overcame all that were sent against him by means
of the irresistible arms of Mananan. His deatli, by the
tooth and bristles of the boar of Ben Gulban in Sligo, was
owing to his being armed on that disastrous day Avith the
yellow-shafted instead of the red-shafted dart of Mac Li]-.

In the tragic story of the " Children of Tuirrean " men-
tion is again mader of the arms of Mananan enabling the
patriotic Lucha to destroy the Fomorian invaders. Here is
the manner in which he acted towards King Cormac, re-
minding us of the Genius in Zadig, and the Angel in Par-
nell's Hermit,

When Cormac was standing at the gate of his palace of
LicUhdruira (Grey Ridge, Tara), he saw a beautiful youth

1*

1 OO THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

on the plain before him, playing with a glittering fairy-
branch with nine apples of gold growing on it. And the
virtue of that branch was, that when he shook it, wounded
men, and w^omen in childbirth would feel no pain, and the
man or woman sunk in grief would remember their sorrow
no more. "That is a priceless article," said Cormac ; "what
do you require for it ? " " Eithne, Cairbre, and Ailve —
thy wife, thy son, and thy daughter," said the youth. "They
are yours," said he, and he took the branch into the sunny
chamber of the Eath, the grianan, and shook it before
Eithne, Cairbre, and Ailve. " What hast thou given for
that branch, 0 Cormac ? " " The dearest things I have in
the world — thyself and our children." Then they fell into
grief and wailing, but he shook the branch again, and they
went forth to meet the youth with happy minds.

When they were gone, and the people of the court heard
it, they burst into loud lamentations, and the people of
Erinn thronged to Leathdruim, and wept aloud, and then
Cormac came forth and shook the golden fruit, and a feeling
of happiness came on the crowd within the halls, and the
multitude that filled the plain, and they retired every one
to his own rath.

So, when a day and a year were gone, Cormac went forth
to seek his wife and his children, and he saw many strange
things as he went, which he did not understand, and at last
he came to a house in the middle of a field. He went in
and found a tall man and woman sitting by the fire, and
there were many colours in their clothes. " Sit down, 0
youth," said the woman, " and stay a day and night with
us. And you, man of the house, if you have any kind of
food better than another, bring it in."

So the man of the house went out, and returned with a
boar on one shoulder and a log on the other. He laid them
dowm, and divided them into four quarters each, and then
said to Cormac, " put a quarter of the boar on a quarter of
the log, and tell a true story, and it shall be cooked." "Tell
the first story thyself," said Cormac; and he agreed. "That
pig is one I have of seven, and when all his flesh is consu-
med I put his bones into the sty, and 1 find him alive in
the moriiing." That was a true story, and the quarter of

KING CORMAC IN FAIRY LAND. 10 1

the boar was cooked. Then the man of the house put
another quarter of the log under another quarter of the boar,
and said, " Bean a Tigh, tell a true story and let tliis be
cooked." So she said, " I have seven cows, and these seven
cows fill seven keaves every morning, and if all the men
and women on the ridge of the world were in the plain, the
seven keaves' milk would satisfy them all.'' That was a
true story, and the second quarter was cooked. Then said
Cormac, " Thou, 0 Man of the house, art Mananan, Son of
Lear, and thou, 0 Woman of the house, art his wife." For
it was to Tir Tairngire (Land of Promise) he came to seek
that maid who owned the seven wonderful cows. " That
is well said," said Mananan ; " and now tell a true story
thyself to cook the third quarter." " I will do that," said
Cormac, and he said : — " It is a year since I gave a fair-
haired youth my wife, my son, and my daughter, for a
branch with golden fruit ; and I am now seeking them
through Erinn." With that the third quarter was cooked.

" Eat now your dinner," said the man of the house, "I
never eat," said Cormac, " with only two in company."
"Then will I indulge you with three more," said Mananan;
and he went into the next room, and returned with Eithne,
Cairbre, and Ailve. There was much embracing, and cry-
ing, and laughing ; and then Mananan spread a table-cloth,
and set them at dinner. " That table-cloth is such," said
Mananan, " that whoever sits at it, will find before him
whatever food he wishes for." He then took a cup from
his girdle, and said, " the virtues of this cup are such, that
if a lying story is told before it, it will fall in four pieces,
and when a true story is then told, the pieces will come to-
gether again." "Let that be proved," said Cormac. "It
shall be done," said Mananan. "This woman that I
brought from thee, has had another husband since." Then
there were four pieces made of the goblet. " That is a
falsehood," said the wife of Mananan. " These have seen
no man or woman since they left Teamur but their tliree
selves." That was a true story, and the pieces went to-
gether again.

" These gifts of yours are very precious things," said
Cormac. " They shall be yours," said Mananan. " It was

102 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

I that appeared as the youth with the branch on the plain
before Leathdruim, and I brought thee here to bind friend-
sliip with thee." Cormac and his family slept on noble
couches that night ; and when they awoke next morning it
was in the bed-chambers of Teamur they found themselves ;
and the table-cloth, the goblet, and the branch with golden
fruit, were with them. And from that time there is a
saying in Erinn — " As Cormac went in quest of his family."

Cormac' s Later Tears.
So Cormac's rule was long distinguished by wisdom and
anxious wishes for the welfare of his subjects ; but in order
that his end should be happy, preparatory trials were sent
as his life drew towards its term. He lost his prudent and
affectionate wife, he lost his crown, or rather he was relieved
of its burthen. Leaving cares of government to his son
Cairbre, he retired to a thatched cottage near the Boyne; and
as he had for a long time endeavoured to live in conformity
to the dictates of natural religion, he was rewarded by
receiving the light of Christian faith seven years before his
death. These seven years were employed in contemplation
and exercises of devotion, and in composing his '^Instruc-
tions for a young Frince {Cairhre, his son)," still extant.
The day before his death, a druid presented himself, bear-
ing a magnificently attired idol, and requested the king to
fall down and pay it suitable honours. Cormac refused of
course, and endeavoured to open the benighted man's eyes
to the folly of paying adoration to the work of man's hands.
He only exasperated the idolater ; and some accounts relate
that he was choked by a fish bone on the evening of the
same day, the druid having pronounced some devilish in-
cantations over the fish while in the process of being
broiled.

l!^ot content with this death, the evil spirits would not
allow the body the advantage of a quiet interment, as he
had given directions that his remains should neither be laid
in Rilig na Righ, the royal cemetery in Eoscommon, nor
in the Brugh of the Boyne among his own pagan ancestors.
His trusty servants endeavoured to convey his body three
times across the Boyne without success, for the waters rose

KING CORMAC IN FAIRY LAND. IO3

in wild waves, and spread far on either side over inches and
woods. On the last occasion, the bier and coffin were swept
down the river out of their hands, and were found some
days afterwards at' the place which thence obtained the
name of Bos na Righ (promontory of the kings). There
the interment was made, and there three hundred years
later, was the skull of the monarch discovered by St. Colum-
Cille, who never afterwards omitted to remember in his
prayers the soul of the wise King Cormac.

CLIONA OF MUNSTER.

The following legend had a claim for next place to that in which
the Great Druid Mocha bore a part, but it did not seem expedient to
separate the legends connected with the Great Eling.

To the great druid of Valentia and his wife were born two
daughters — Cliona (lovely), who, as she grew up, possessed
herself of all the occult knowledge of her father, and Aivil
(all beautiful), who was more beautiful than Aoine (Venus)
herself

When it was time to think of a husband for the elder
lady, who was no way distinguished for beauty, the parents
turned their attention to a neighbouring young chief, the
brave and princely looking Caomh (jtr. Caev, pleasant).
They invited him to pass some days at their lios, and in
order that no obstacle should be in the way of the desired
union, Aivil was sent away on a visit to the fort of a rela-
tive in Thomond.

The most cordial reception was given to the young chief,
who became at once a favourite of the druid, and his lady,
and their daughter, and every one of the family or follow-
ing, by his unassuming manner, and his strength, and skill,
and speed in the chase, and in the warlike exercises which
occupied the duine uasals in their hours of leisure. Cliona
loved him from the first hour in which she enjoyed his
company; but great as were her mental endowments, she
saw clearly enough that, however well disposed were his

104 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

feelings, they did not correspond to the fervour of hers
towards him. She knew the power of philtres, but she also
knew their evil, and the hatred which frequently follows
the insane affection which they excite; so she forbore their
use. The only sorcery she resorted to was that of intelli-
gence, tender attention to the tastes and wishes of the guest,
and that natural charm resulting from beauty of shape, grace
of movement, and the pleasure which her eyes and lips ever
expressed in their conversations. Caomh being up to that
time heart-whole, would have soon returned the deep-seated
love of Cliona, but it was otherwise decreed.

Having left the enclosed dun one evening to enjoy the
green expanse of the neighbouring clearings, the sunshine,
and the shade of the old forest-trees, the conversation be-
came at every step more and more interesting, so interest-
ing, indeed, that at last, as they sat on the trunk of a fallen
tree, Cliona was expecting that the next words spoken by
her companion would be a declaration of love. And so they
would have been, but for the noise made by a party passing
to the lios along the forest road. A sickness came over her
at the sight of her beautiful sister approaching, seated in a
chariot such as was in use sixteen hundred years since, and
accompanied by many of gentle and simple rank on foot.
A different effect was produced on Caomh, who from the
moment he could get a clear view of her lovely features and
lovely form, felt as if his heart had left his breast and flown
to her. !N"o less strong were the sensations of Aivil as her
eyes took in the noble figure and manly beauty of Caomh.

Cliona, putting all the restraint in her power on her pain-
ful emotions, kindly received her sister, who had now de-
scended from her car ; and after a few words of ordinary
greeting, asked her the cause of her so speedy return.
"Have our friends," said she, "lost their character for
hospitality, and allowed you to quit them so soon'? " "^No,
no," said she, " I left them in the utmost sorrow and mor-
tification. But from the first night I spent in their lios, I
have been tormented with the most frightful dreams.
Horrible creatures, of whose appearance I could give no
account on waking, seemed as if they were seizing on differ-
ent parts of soul and body, heart, brain, love of you and

CLIONA OF MUNSTER. lOj

our parents, such beauty as I have, everything most dear to
me, even some most dear treasure which I seemed to under-
stand and value beyond all things while subject to these
horrible night trances, and of which I could form no dis-
tinct notion in my waking hours, but whose want was not
the less painful. After three nights' sufferings I could en-
dure it no more ; and if our friends had not sent their sons
and these stout youths to accompany me, I should have
dared the perils of the journej'' alone."

In the lios there was great joy for the return of the
amiable Aivil ; but the pleasure it gave her parents was
small compared with the mortification they felt on Cliona's
account. They did not require more than a few hours' ob-
servation to be convinced that a strong mutual affection
reigned in the hearts of the chief and their younger daugh-
ter. But powerless as the young creature felt herself to
show indifference, or give a refusal, when Caomh revealed
his love, and besought hers in return, she thus spoke :
" Before I yield to this appeal, you must declare to me, on
the word of a truthful Curadh, that you have not said simi-
lar things to my sister, aiid asked for a return." Though
Caomh was not thoroughly blameless, in intention at least,
his answer satisfied her, and she found it beyond her power
to conceal her love. Few moments went by till the parents'
consent was asked ; and, however unwelcome was the turn
things had taken, refusal could not be given.

The betrothed were too much engrossed with their
abounding happiness to reflect that perhaps this happiness
could be only matched in intensity by the anguish endured
by Cliona. No one witnessed it but her nurse, whose love
for her was that of a mother.

This nurse could scarcely have lived from her youth in
the druid's family without having acquired some of his evil
science. Seeing her beloved favourite in such a distracted
state, she proposed a plan, which without inflicting any
eventual evil on her sister, would remove all hindrances to
her (Cliona's) marriage vdih the young chief, and thus they
proceeded.

The nurse collected many herbs by moonlight, muttering
appropriate charms the while. She boiled them in a bra-

I06 THE BAEDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

zen vessel, burning a lock of Aivil's hair over it, and letting
tlie ashes fall into the mixture. With the first opportunity
which presented itself, a small portion of the beverage was
given in some liquid to Aivil, and from the moment an ill-
ness, increasing from hour to hour, seized on her. Her
surpassing loveliness faded, the outline of her beautiful form
became rigid and angular, her strength departed, and despite
Caomh's mighty sorrow, the sorrow of her parents, and that
of all her people, and even the efforts of her father, aided
by his occult skill, the earthly life of the sufferer came to
a close. Her remains were laid in a stone chamber, a mound
piled above, and a dallan inscribed with her name and de-
scent in the Ogham character set up.

In the very night that succeeded her apparent death, the
magic power of Cliona and her nurse was put in employ-
ment; the insensible body of the unfortunate lady was
removed to the subterranean palace of Castlecor ; a draught
of power was given, at first drop by drop, but gradually
increased till the blood began to flow, the lungs to breathe,
and the limbs to move ; and long before the dawn of day
Aivil was as fair to look upon as when she first met the
eyes of Caomh.

At first she was in great disquiet, arising from the change
which she felt was taking place in herself, the strangeness
of the place, and the anxious looks of her sister and the
nurse. When Cliona felt that the proper moment was
come, she related what had occurred, and by whose agency,
and thus continued : " I blame you not for anything past,
but I must consult my own happiness. I love Caomh as
intensely as you, and cannot endure life without his love
and his society. You shall enjoy lands and castles, nothing
of earthly good shall you want ; but you must swear by an
oath which I shall tender to you, the least infraction of
which will be followed by your destruction, that you will
never give information of your existence to Caomh, nor take
any step to weaken his love for me."

" The condition you propose," said Aivil, " I could not
observe. Caomh's love and society are as needful to me as
the air I breathe. Without them, life on the earth would
be torture."

CLIONA OF MUNSTER. IO7

Cliona endeavoured to win her to consent, but in vain.
At last slie announced her resolution. " I love you as I
ever did, but my own happiness is still dearer : if I leave you
here in the possession of your human shape and faculties,
some unexpected chance may disappoint my plans, With
this wand, the most powerful of all Mogha Euith's instru-
ments, I will change your appearance to that of the fairest
to look on of animals. ]^othing but a touch of the same
w^and may ever again restore you to the shape you now enjoy.
Here all your wants shall be looked to, and suitable attend-
ance you shall never need. Whenever you feel inclined to
comply with my desire, you have only to forui the resolve
in your mind, I shall be presently with you, and the lovely
shape, and the enjoyment of the upper world, shall be yours
again." She touched her with the wand, and a white cat,
the most beautiful that ever appeared to the human eyes,
stood in her place.

Tears fell from her eyes like rain as she caressed the
beautiful animal, nor were her endearments repelled.

Cliona's first cares on her return were now directed to
console the bereaved Caomh. Next day there was no ap-
pearance of Mogha nor the lady of the dun at the plentiful
table where the household took their food. They found
that a disease of weakness had seized on them, and that the
sharp and heavy sorrow for their daughter's loss was beyond
their force to overcome. From their beds they never rose
again, and no sleep came on Cliona's eyes while their illness
endured. Caomh did not quit the dun while life held,
and his sympathy with the suffering daughter consoled and
strengthened her in her watches. She might perhaps have
still preserved their lives for years of happiness by releasing
her sister, but Cliona was a pagan and sorceress, and she
would give up her own life rather than the hope of one day
securing the love of Caomh.

So death again visited the household, and the solemn
ceremonies of the interment were performed, the lamenta-
tions sung, and the mound raised over the mighty druid
and his wife, and Cliona, left alone in her grianan to bewail
her lossesj but not all alone. When Coamh hinted at his
departure, he beheld such woe in her face and attitude that

Io8 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

he stayed on, and, notwithstanding his own desolation, he
comforted her as he could. In her features, though much
less beautiful than those of his lost treasure, in her accents,
and in her movements, there was much that recalled the
presence of the all-lovely Aivil, and an ill-understood in-
fluence kept him still by the side of Cliona. However,
months and months went by before his feelings towards
her became undivided love. The change at last arrived,
and Cliona was as happy as a woman could be.

On the eve of her marriage-day, she determined that she
would, if it were consistent with her own well-being, im-
part what happiness she could to her ill-fated sister. She
restored her for the moment to her human form, tenderly
embraced her, and proposed liberty and the light and joy
of upper air on the former terms ; but neither her beauty,
nor her health, nor her all-engrossing love, had suffered any
change during her enchantment ; and she would not make
promise nor take oath, and they parted again in sadness.

So Cliona' s happiness was at last secured, and never was
man blessed with a more judicious, loving, and devoted wife.
Once every year she visited the sighe palace of Castlecor,
and earnestly endeavoured to change her sister's resolve ;
but it remained as it had been from the beginning.

Three daughters were sent to gladden the home of the
happy pair, and the features of all, some more strongly than
the rest, recalled to their fond father the sweet countenance
of the lost Aivil.

For more causes than we have room to explain, the
demeanour of the happy wife and mother gradually changed
to her nurse, her former evil agent. She was not, indeed,
unkind nor harsh ; but all tenderness and attachment
ceased, and the wicked hag was now afflicted with an ill-
ness which was to death. She seized a chance opportunity
of securing the rod of power, and having kindled a fire, the
flames of which were fed with magic ingredients, she con-
sumed it, till its ashes could not be distinguished from those
of the materials used in its destruction.

As Caomh and Cliona were one day agreeably conversing
on the sunny slope of the mound which guarded fheir dun,
and their children were chasing each other in frolicsome

CLIONA OF MUNSTER. I Op

glee, a message came from the nurse, praying her master to
visit her in her last hour, as she had information to give,
intended for his ears alone. He asked, might not his wife
accompany him ; but a denial was given. He proceeded to
the room of the old woman, and the moment of his entrance
into the building, Cliona sought her secret apartment, and
found the rod of power gone. Swiftly she had her chariot
harnessed, and taking her daughters with her, she bade the
attendants who were present to acquaint her lord when he
came out, that she and the children had driven to Carrig
Cliona.

He soon came forth, but it would seem as if a score of
years had passed over his head since he had entered the
house. On receiving the information, he proceeded to the
dun named by his wife. If she had entertained any design
to screen herself from his resentment, the air of deeply-
seated wretchedness which hung about him soon changed
her purpose. She made no defence but threw herself at
his feet in agony. " Words are useless," said he. " First
of all, free your innocent and hapless sister from the spell
under which she lies. Place her where she wills. I shall
never lay eyes on her while you live. All the love of which
my heart is capable has been yours for years and years.''
" Alas, my dear lord ! " said she, " it is beyond my skill to
do so. The unhappy wretch who so well worked out my
wishes, destroyed the fatal wand in which lay the power of
disenchantment. In revealing the wickedness of me and of
herself, she took care to leave that evil deed unmentioned."
" The same roof," said he, " shall never again shelter our
heads. Eestore my children, and never again come where
I am. My affection for you shall end only with my life ;
but she who has lost my esteem shall never more share my
bed."

She brought forth the children, and suffered more than
the pangs of death in parting from them, and from him
whom she could never cease to love and obey.

The poor children did not see many melancholy days pass
over their heads before their father was released from
eartlily sufferings. They were then removed to the dun of
their grandfather at Cullin, and never after allowed to look

no THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

on the face of their wicked and unhappy mother. Till her
mortal course ended, and till she pased into the sighe state,
she dwelt with her sister in the subterranean palace at
Castlecor, and bestowed all the loving cares in her power
on her. When freed from her mortal condition, her nature
suffered a malevolent change, and never at the hearth of
peasant or farmer has there been related a kind deed done
to mortal by the queen of Munster fairies, CHona, daughter
of Mogha Kuith.

A few miles south of Mallow, stands an upland circular
platform of smooth turf, two acres in extent, in the centre
a tolerably large isolated rock, and some smaller ones placed
at points in the circumference. This is Cliona's domain,
the central rock is her castle, and he is a strong-minded
peasant who dares to cross the enchanted enclosure during
the hours of night.

The entrance to the cavern at Castlecor has been closed.
This cavern lies within a hillock crowned with trees, and
till the entrance was stopped, many tales were current of
adventurers, who after clearing a chasm twenty-five feet
wide, were admitted into the richly-furnished interior, and
had interviews with the resident white cat. Such as com-
ported themselves with modesty and moderation in their
desire of treasures, were sent away well furnished with gold
and jewels. One room filled with precious things was in
open view, but the entrance was forbidden by the fair guar-
dian. If her desire was not attended to, a Sighe-gaoithe
swept the covetous wretch out, the breadth of whole fields,
from the palace, and when he awoke to consciousness he
found hands and pockets empty. Some tellers of the le-
gend, ignoring the pagan practices of the characters of the
legend, and the many centuries since they were creatures
of flesh and blood, would tell that if any eUgible suitor
could find liis way to AiviFs chamber, and love her for her
own sake, and mthout reference to her riches, she might
once more enjoy human happiness in air and sunlight ; but
we look on this circumstance as an excrescence on the early
form of the legend.

[ 11^ ]

THE FIRST LAP-DOG THAT CAME TO ERINN.

In the days of Cormac there lived in Erinn a young chief
endowed with all the qualities to make him respected in
council, dreaded in battle, and loved by his family and
his tribe. But no one is perfect ; and Carril's weak point
was an excessive liking for dogs of every species, from the
noble hound that chased wolf and stag to the serviceable
house-dog, and him that assisted the shepherd. He could
hardly be approached in his ordinary walks and excursions,
for the number of these animals of every rank that barked
and frolicked about him ; and when he passed the hruighin
(farm house) or the shealin, the animals in kitchen and
yard would spring out, make their way through their some-
times snarling fellows till they would receive kind words
and caresses from the young chief. Then, after executing
some gambols round him, and at times having a snap or
snarl with some unharmonious spirit in the throng, or
renewing old compacts with others, by snuffing, cocking
ears, or smelUng, they would retire satisfied to their posts.

One time a young duine uasal, a distant relative of his
family, and whose tribe was settled in Alba, came to attend
a famous school which was held in the neighbourhood of
the dun in which our young dog-patron spent his happy
and active life. The new-comer took up his abode with
his relatives, and though more devoted to the study of old
parchments than to wild sports, he occasionally accompanied
the young flaith on his excursions. Once on their return
to the dun, after a long hunt, the discourse, as in nine in-
stances out of every ten, turned upon dogs, and the chief
expressed his feelings in these words, uttered for behoof of
his mother and two fair young sisters —

" JMy dear mother, while I am gratified with the attach-
ment shown to me by my dogs of every description, and
the sincere caresses they are never tired of bestowing on
me, I feel that my enjoyment is not complete, for neither
the woK nor stag-hound, nor sheep-dog, nor terrier, nor
house-dog, is fitted by size or comeliness to spring into the
laps of yourself or my sisters. Now, if there was only a
race of animals the size of the cat, with long silky hair and

112 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

long ears, and finely formed limbs, my domestic enjoyment
would be complete to see one in each of your laps, while
my own rougher, but perhaps more devoted followers, with
their necks on my thighs, and their eyes fixed on my face,
seem to enjoy all the happiness of which they are capable."

Then said the student : " You are in a fair way to have
your wishes gratified. At my father's in Alba, is such a
dog at this moment, the delight of the whole family; though
for my part I would prefer the company of that rough-coated,
sharp-eared sheep-dog between your legs. She and her
companion were lately brought in a ship from GauL Such
has never been seen in our country before."

"I vow," said the young chief, "that to-morrow's sun
shall see me on my way to your father's fort, and if I return
without a pair of the lovely breed to Erinn, I will give you
leave to call me an amadhan ! "

" Oh, you need not take such trouble," said the student.
" It will be a great pleasure to me on my return, to send a
pair of these animals of the lap to my kinswomen."

The chief was not master of his besetting impulses.
Next day saw him on board ship, attended only by six of
his favourites, and a gioUa, and next day saw him at the
house of his relatives in Alba, all the household vieing with
each other in giving him welcome ; his own dogs, and all
those of the household, striving with each other for a seat
next him before the huge fire in the hall, and the long-eared,
silken-haired lap-dog on his knees. A gi'eat damp was
flung on his spirits by the news that her mate had been
accidentally killed on the previous day. Many an envious
glance was cast on the little pampered animal by house,
and sheep, and wolf-dog that evening, and their whinings
repaid by many a selfish and ill-natured snarl. The daugh-
ter of the house fancied she had never seen so well formed
or well favoured a young gaisca ; but though he paid her
all the attention he could spare from his rough and smooth-
coated favourites, she thought within herself, " If all the
men of Erinn pay as little attention to the women as our
guest, I pity their wives and daughters."

Next day the visitor took an opportunity of asking, in
persuasive accents, the gift of the much- coveted Leanan.

THE FIRST LAP-DOG THAT CAME TO EKINN. I I3

" Do not press your request, good cousin," said the mas-
ter of the house ; " my wife and myself vahie the race of
dogs nearly as much as you do. There is of her kind but
herself in Britain. She will soon give birth to a litter ; and
by your hand you shall have a pair. Stay with us ; hunt,
and course, and fish, till they are fit for removal."

'' I would be dead of impatience by that time. Give me
instant possession of the darling Leanan, and my hand to
you, I shall cross the sea of Moyle again with a pair of
her young, in seasonable time."

"Xo, dear cousin and guest; take all my cattle; take
cloaks, shields, gorgets of gold and silver, as much as you
will ; take Eimer to wife if you fancy her ; but Leanan I
cannot part with."

More entreaties, more and more fervent, more and more
decided refusals, and at last the subject was dropped.

When retiring to rest, the Bhan a Tigh wondered to see
Leanan, instead of waiting on her own steps, cling close to
the visitor. Vain were her callings and expostulations :
she would not quit him, and howled dismally when she took
her from him. At last, at the recpiest of Eimer, she gave
her liberty, and she followed the young guest to his sleep-
ing apartment. Xext morning, after the forenoon meal of
cakes, and broiled meat, and trout, and sorrel, and diluted
mead, Carril, taking liis dagger by the point, presented the
handle to the astonished eyes of the Fear a tigh (Man of
the house), and asked his opinion of its condition. " I
think," said he, " it shows the finest taste, and the greatest
skill in the carving of the wood, and the finest ornamenta-
tion in precious stones and gold, but what has caused it to
be defiled with grease, and the carving defaced as if by some
animal's gnawing 1 " " This has been done under your
roof ; what recompense do you award me ? " "If the in-
jury has been done by man or woman, a suitable eric shall
be paid ; if by a brute, it shall be at your option to kill
it, or take it as your property, for so it is laid down in
the Senchus, — ' Every beast for its damage.'" "I am satis-
fied with your decision. My dagger fell on the floor in the
night, and the handle dropped into a piece of some stuff
palatable to the little animal, whose delight is to be in the

1 14 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

lap of its mistress. In licking it she has disfigured the
richly-carved haft of my skian, and by your own decision
she is now at my discretion. I sail for Erinn this day ;
every minute is an hour till Leanan is in my mother's lap ;
but you shall see me again as soon as I can restore two for
the one taken."

Carril left sorrow behind him. The father and mother
mourned the little animal ; the daughter was sad for the
departure of her negligent relative. But in three months'
time he was with them again, his giolla bearing in a straw
basket two of the nicest little animals that ever rejoiced the
eyes of queen or chieftainess. The life and sprightliness
which had fled from the sweet countenance of the young
maiden now returned. Carril bestowed some attention
still on his old favourites, but much more on the fair young
heiress of the dun, and when he set foot again on his na-
tive land he was not alone. Thus was a fair bride brought
from Alba, and thus was the first lap-dog brought to the
land of the Gael.

Matter of fact chroniclers, whose imformation can never be so ex-
tensive or accurate as that of legend- finders, assert that Cairbre Muse,
son of Sarah (Cormac's aunt and daughter of Conn of the Battles), and
in time chief of Muskerry in Munster, was the fortunate individual
who by a similar artifice, brought the useless and peevish little animal
from Cornwall. We once had the advantage of hearing in the Royal
Irish Academy a lecture on the interrelations of the common law of
England and our own old legal code, delivered by a gentleman who
combines in his own person, the best qualities of a Brehon and a
FUea (councillor and poet). In the discourse came out the anecdote
of the ruse of the chief above named. As national story-teUer, we
take precedence of historian or oUav, and in that capacity, commend
our own version to our readers and the public.

The following is a quasi-historical legend connected with the origin
of the great stone fortress on the western shore of Lough Foyle.

THE OEIGIN OF AILEACH.
A PROVINCIAL king and queen once visited the palace of
the Ard Eigh at Teamur, and were hospitably entertained.
During their stay, this king began to suspect that the son

THE ORIGIN OF AILEACH. I 1 5

of the King of Ireland had induced his wife to forget her
love and duty. Coming on the guilty pair unexpectedly
while she seemed to be receiving his addresses with any-
thing but resentment, he drew his sword, rushed on his
betrayer, and after a short struggle, left him lifeless. In
other cases of this kind the wronged husband would have
only had to pay an eric, greater or less ; but this slaying had
taken place within the precincts of the regal fort. Council-
lors and nobles alike insisted that the homicide was worthy
of death, but the bereaved father would not consent. " The
young man,'' said he, " was guilty of a heinous crime com-
mitted against his father's guests, and deserved his fate.
Still, the outraged man should have respected the invio-
lable character of his sovereign's abode. Let him, therefore,
take the corpse on his back, and carry it where he wills,
until he shall have found a suitable tombstone ; and in that
spot let him make the interment. The order was executed,
and the unfortunate man, bearing the noisome load went
forth, and searched, and still went on, till he came to the
north-east of Tirconaill (Donegal). There, when he was on
the point of expiring from fatigue and sorrow, he discovered
a strong flag of the very size and fashion of a funeral stone.
Having by a sujDreme effort succeeded in performing the
enjoined duty, he lay down on the fatal spot, and breathed
his last. A mighty fortress was afterwards raised round
this tomb, and called from the circumstance related, the
"Stone Fort of Groans" (Aileach). It was the greatest
stronghold of the Clann Conaill for centuries.

A historical fact having some circumstances in common with this
legend, is connected with Cormac's court. This monarch at the in-
tercession of his uncle Aongus, forgave a person who had been for a
long time in disgrace, and received him at Tara. But this proceeding
was so displeasing to Ceallach, a hot-blooded son of the king, that he
seized on the forgiven man, and put out his eyes. Aongus was so
exasperated by this act of treachery, that coming up with the prince,
he struck him dead with his lance though in his father's presence. He
and his brothers barely escaping with their lives, betook themselves
to their brother-in-law, OilioU Oluim, King of Munster, who gave them
possession of the district ever since called the Desies.

We shall not here presume to decide on the existence or non-exis-

I I 6 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

tence of the redoubtable body of heroes, the Fianna Eirionn, who are
said to have flourished in the reign of Cormac and his son and succes-
sor Cairbre, and whose deeds have been sung by so many bards.
Their great chief Fionn is certainly a historical personage. They are
represented as a sort of standing army, which watched the coasts, and
prevented invaders from making lodgments in the island. They were
quartered during the winter on the inhabitants, and supported them-
selves during summer and autumn by himting and fishing. On the
Hill of Allen in Kildare was reared the great fortress of Fionn, for
whose parentage and youth, as well as the destruction of his greatest
champions at Gavra (Garristown) in Meath, in the reign of Cairbre,
A.D. 294, see Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts. The death of
Fionn is thus noted under the year a.d. 273, by Tighernach, the most
trustworthy of our ancient chroniclers.

" Finn O'Baiscne was beheaded by Aiclech Mac Duibdren and the
sons of Uirgren of the Luain^ of Temrach (Tara) at Ath Brea on the
Boyne." The death of Cuchulainn is recorded by the same historian,
under the date a.d. 2.

The few Ossianic tales for which we can afford space were the com-
positions of different bards and story tellers who preserved the
characters of the chiefs well enough but varied in some details.

AN BRUIGHEAN CAORTHAIN (THE QUICK-BEAM FORT).

CoLGAN of hard weapons, son of Datchain, King of Locli-
lann (Scandinavia), on a day of the days convened a meet-
ing of his nobles, chiefs, and distinguished subjects on the
very wide, green plain where fairs and public meetings were
wont to be held.

All being assembled, he asked in a loud, clear voice, if
they approved his mode of governing them ; and they
answered, as with one voice, that they did. " I am called
King of Erinn, and the people of that island do not own
me as their sovereign, nor pay me tribute. Is it your \d\\
that we should invade that country where King Balor, and
Ceiltean of intem^^erate teeth, his wife, his son Breas, and
his daughters ISTiav and Finndealv, and many others Of our
noble people have perished f " We will it," cried they all,
and the meeting broke up, and swift runners went through
Lochlann, and collected the stores, the ships, and the

AX BRUIGHEAN CAORTHAIX. 1 1 7

Then went over the sea to Ermn, these stern, heroic men
in ships of large hulls, and in fast-sailing barks, and they
came to land m a bay of Uladh. Cormac, son of Art, son of
Conn of the Hundred Battles, received the tidings from a
swift runner, and he delayed not till another, fleet of limb,
went southwards like the wind. He was soon in presence
of Fionn, son of Cumhall, as he sat at the board in the wide
hall of Almhuin.

" Fionn, son of Cumhall," said he, " Cormac, Ard Eighof
Erinn, greets jon, and informs you that Colgan, ' son of '
Dathehain, King of Lochlann, at the head of warriors
without number, has landed in Uladh, and is advancing on
Teamur m swift marches." Fion left the hall, stood on his
highest rampart, sounded his wild war bugle, and the plain
was soon covered with the seven battalions of the Fianna.

The third day from this broke on Erinn, and the Fians
of Leinster, of Munster, and of Conacht, were engaged in
deadly conflict with the men of Lochlann. Colgan and
his valiant eldest son laid many of the Clann Baoisgne low,
but both perished in turn by the invincible glaive of Osgur,
son of Oisin, son of Fionn. So would have perished Mogach
youngest son of Colgan, but he asked for life, and this,
boon was never refused by a Fian of Erinn.

This youth was brought up at Fionn's board, and Fionn's
side was his place at allhuntiugsand entertainments. But
for this preference, Conan the Bald one day reproached the
chief in a council of the chiefs, and these were his words: —
" Fionn the father, and brother, and the countrymen of
Mogach have perished by your hands and those of your
warriors ; yet is he ever found by your side and at your
right hand. You are cherishing a young wolf who will
one day rend those dearest to you limb from limb." "But
what can be done 1 I have given him bread and salt at my
table. We must not do a positive cruelty to guard against
an uncertain treachery." Send the youth, O son of Cum-
hall, to a far off portion of Erinn, whence if he devises harm,
it must come to you in open battle and conflict." All the
warriors commended the thoughts of Conan, and Mogach
became chief, at his own request, of a tract near the Sionan's
mouth, and another called the territory of the great men

I 1 S THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

{Firmhor, Corkaguinny), and these lie selected because of
their commodious harbours, for there might be concealed
the king of the world (Emperor of Eome 1) and his forces,
and Fionn none the wiser.

There for fourteen years lived Mogach, and he collected
riches in abundance, yet not once in the whole time did he
invite his protector to feast or hunt, and when any chiefs
of the seven battalions of Almhuin passed that way, he
never flung open his gates, nor invited them to the washing
■ of feet, nor to a seat at his table.

One day as Fionn was pursuing the wild deer, he sat on
the brow of Cnoc Firinne (Hill of Truth), and while seated,
he saw a youth of heroic mien approach him. A transpa-
rent hood was on his head beneath his four ridged helmet,
and from his shoulders fell a many-coloured silken cloak,
fastened at his neck by a brooch of wide branches. By his
side hung a sharp-cutting glaive. Two bright spears were
in his right hand, and on his left arm was strung his glit-
tering shield. " What is your news, young chief ? " said
Fionn. " News I have none. I am a maker of verses, and
have brought one to offer to you." *' I think you a man
rather of Hots than rhyraes (a pun here in the original), and
better used to do heroic feats than to sing them." " By
your hand, I am merely what I say ; will it please you to
listen to my verses ?" " Xot here. Come to me in any
palace in Erinn, and if your verses are worthy, you shall
name your own reward." " I will not enter any of your
palaces, and if you do not listen to me here, I will lay you
under geasa of performing acts repugnant to heroes."
" Then repeat your rhymes," said Fionn, and the young poet
said many, — scarcely worthy of the reader's attention.

" And now," said Fionn, " 0, poet of worry and perse-
verance, what is your name, and what your tribe ?" "Bad
it is, 0 Fionn," said Conan, " that you cannot distinguish
your friends from your foes. He is Mogach, son of Colgan,
King of Lochlann, and to destroy you and us is his design.
For fourteen years he has afforded neither meat, drink, nor
lodging to hero or hireling of your people." '' That is no
fault of mine," said Mogach. *' Every month of that time
Lave I had a dinner prepared, but sent no invitation ; for is

AN BRUIGHEAN CAORTHAIN. II9

it not ordained that chief or king desirous to be entertained,
should himself make the request ? I have two habitations
— one on the mainland, one on an island ; and I lay yoa
under geasa that you come and share the feast that I have
prepared in my Quick-beam Court on the mainland." He
then took himself away.

So Fionn and certain of his heroes went, and Oisin re-
mained in the same place where they then were, with those
of his companions, that is to say, Faha, grandson to Conn,
Diarmuidh O'Duine, Fiachna, son of Fionn, and Innse, son
of Suivne Seilge. Those who departed with Fionn, were
— Goll, son of Morna, Dathcaoin Deinma, Lucha of the
Eed Hand, Glas, son of Aon Ceirde, two of the chiefs of
Leinster, two of the chiefs of Conacht, the swift-footed Coir
Cead Gunorach, and the bald-headed Conan.

Conan the mistrustful first entered the quick-beam court,
and was surprised to find no living being within. In the
centre was burning a large smokeless fire, and the smell
that came from it was the sweetest he ever got. Eound
the walls ran a raised seat, covered Avith rich cloths and
many-hued silks, and the wainscotting was of fine smooth
boards, of different colours, no one being like that at either
side of it. After some time Fionn said, " It is strange that
we should be left so long without appearance of Mogach, or
attendant, or feast." " It is also strange," said Goll, " that
the smokeless fire which gave so sweet a perfume at first,
should now produce a smell as if all the evil weeds of the
land were burning. Never before did I see afire producing
such a body of smoke." " Strange is it, too," said Glas,
" that the walls which were so smooth and so varied in
colour, should now be only rough boards secured with
quick-beam twigs." " It is as wonderful," said Faolan, son
of Aodh Beg, " that instead of the seven large carved doors
that admitted us, there is none now to be seen but one low
and narrow." " Most strange, and most unpleasant of all,"
said Conan Maol, " is it that our rich warm seats are now
but coarse canvas, and as cold as the frozen water." " It
is a disgrace to me," said Fionn, " to be a guest in a house
secured by quick-beam withes. Let us destroy it." " Cer-
tainly," said Conan, and pressing the blunt end of his spear

120 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

against the ground, he attempted to spring lightly on his
feet. So did all the heroes, but they found themselves as
fast secured to the long seat, as if seat and bodies were the
same substance. " Treachery, treachery ! " said Conan.
" Place your thumb between your lips, 0 Fionn, and give
us true prophecy."

Fionn did as asked, and sad and sorrowful were his looks.
" Alas !" said he, " for fourteen years has the King of Loch-
lann's son been preparing this snare. In his island fortress
is now the King of the World, the Senior of Battles, with
six kings at his command, and every king rules six batta-
lions ; and there are also in that fortress the three Kings of
the islands of the floods and the dragons. And it is by the
sorcery of these last three that we are secured ; and there is
nothing to release us but their own blood. A band of war-
riors under the command of Borb, son of the Senior of
Battles, will be shortly here to put us to death." " Sound
the dhordfion,'' said Conan, " that our friends, if near, may
know our peril."

When Oisin had became weary with waiting, he des-
patched Fiachna, son of Fionn, and Innse, son of Suivne of
the Chase, to the quick-beam court, to see how it fared with
the chief and his companions. As they approached they
heard the sound of the war-bugle, and they knew Fionn was
in danger. " How fares it with my father?" cried Fiachna.
" Very ill," was the reply. " We are here powerless by
enchantment. Our enemies, countless as the sands, are in
the island fort, and a detachment is coming to slay us.
Who is in your company ? " " Your foster son, Innse of
the Chase.'' "Let Innse depart in safety, but you hasten
to the pass of the ford, and defend it till aid comes at dawn."
" Let my right hand wither ! " said Innse, " if I desert my
chief and foster father in his need. Fiachna and myself
will do what skill and valour can."

As they came to the pass, said Fiachna, "I will proceed
to the island to see the state and the strength of the foe.
You guard the pass." Innse was not long on his post when
he perceived a Grecian chief approaching at the head of fifty
men. " What seek you ? " said he. " We go to fetch the
head of Fionn, son of Cumhall, to lay it at the feet of the

AN BRUIGHEAN CAORTHAIN. 12 I

king of the world. And who of the noble or ignoble people
of the earth are you, standing there with arms and armour*?"
"I am Innse of the Chase, foster son of Fionn, son of
Cumhall, and if you attempt to cross the ford your flesh
shall be a feast for the wolves and ravens."

Then rushed onwards the soldiers ; and as corn before
the reaper, so fell their bodies before the keen-cutting glaive
of Innse, till not a man remained in life except their chief.
Now came he on in strength and fury, and after a stern
struggle, Innse, exhausted by wielding his heavy arms, and
weakened with wounds, was felled to the earth, and his
noble head severed from his white and powerful body.

Fiachna, returning from his quest, met the Grecian chief
bearing the head of Innse. " Whose is that trophy you
bear?" said he. "It is the head of Innse, foster son of
Fionn, chief of the warriors of Erinn. He slew fifty of my
warriors, but perished by my hand. I am going to lay it
at the feet of the king of the world." "Yours or mine must
bear it company," said Fiachna, and with his heavy glaive
he struck his foeman on the helm, and brought him to his
knee. Furious but short was the deadly struggle, and
when it ceased Fiachna was bearing two heads as he passed
to the ford. There, finding the body of Innse, he made a
grave, and many times kissing the head of his foster brother,
and shedding bitter tears, he laid both it and the body in
the grave, and covered it with tender care.

He approached the castle, and many were the questions
and answers that followed. Fionn sorely bewailed the fate
of his foster son, and blessed the brave Fiachna for aveng-
ing his death. " Go now, my son," said he, " and, while
strength is left you, defend the pass till succour comes."

In the island, Mogach became anxious about the fate of
the fifty that had gone towards the quick-beam castle.
Taking sweets and fine meats to torment Conan the Greedy
before putting all to death, he came with fifty men to the
ford ; and dismay fell on his heart when he beheld the pile
of dead warriors. " Who are you ? and who were these
warriors when life was in their veins, and arms in their
hands." " I am Fiachna, son of Fionn, and these the allies
of the treacherous Mogach, prince of Lochlann. Send for-

122 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

ward your soldiers till their slain corses enlarge the pile ! ''
Onwards came the fighting men of Lochlann, and Fiachna
rushed through them, and over them, and under them,
as a wolf through a flock of sheep, or a hawk through a flight
of small birds, till there was not a man of the fifty on whom
the doom of desolation had not come. Then came, in fresh
arms and in untired strength, jMogach, and fell on Fiachna,
who returned blow for blow, and reply to the demand,
though weak with fatigue and much loss of blood.

Oisin remained still on the Hill of Truth, and was sur-
prised that Fiachna and Innse had not returned. " I go,"
said Diarmuidh of the Ball Seirce (beauty spot), " to find
out what has happened ; perhaps the feast is too delicious
for them to quit it." " I go with you," said Faha, grandson
of Conn. When they drew near the ford they heard the
clang of the glaives on the helms, and shields, and loricas
of Fiachna and Mogach, and the groans of the dying warriors.
*'That is the war-shout of Fiachna," said Diarmuidh ; " weak
and faint it seems." On they ran, and there, on the farther
side, was Fiachna, beaten behind his shield. " Thousand
woes ! " said Diarmuidh ; " If I cross this heap he will be
slain before my sword reach his foe. If I cast my spear, it
is he, perhaps, whom it will pierce." " Never yet," said
Faha, " did you cast the lance in vain." Swifter than the
wind it went whistUng, and the length of a warrior's arm
beyond the body of Mogach it went, first breaking the
buckler and the strong coat of mail.

Though the shades of death were on his eyes, and the
force failing from his arm, with a final thrust he freed the
soul of Fiachna, and in the next moment his own head was
shorn from his shoulders by the blade of the son of Duine,
as a tuft of dry grass by the scythe of the mower. " Had
I found you dead," said Diarmuidh, " when I crossed the
ford, your head and body should not have been separated.
jN'ow I take your head to Fionn as eric for the death of his
son."

Leaving Faha to watch the pass, he hastened to the
quick-beam castle, and called out to the curai to let him in.
" That is the voice of Diarmuidh," said Fionn. "Alas, alas !
we cannot stir from our seats. AVhat were those cries and

AN BRUIGHEAN CAORTHAIN. 1 23

tliat clang of arms that have been coming to onr ears."
" They were the cries of the foes of Erinn that have fallen
by the strong arm of Fiachna ; but your noble son lies on
his shield, lifeless." "i/o chuma ! my noble son ! Who
has taken his life % Is his slayer still under arms, and what
name does he bear % " " Mogaeh, son of Colgan, was he
called. His lifeless body lies at the ford. I bear his head
by the long golden locks." " Many times have you done
me a service, 0 son of Duine ! This, your last, is the
greatest. Continue to watch till dawn till our people arrive,
O Diarmuidh. We are as powerless as cailleachs spinning
in the sun."

" Great is my misery, 0 Diarmuidh," cried Conan.
" Cold as the coldest icicle is my body. My hunger is as
that of the famished wolf; still more unbearable is my
thirst. Eich are the meats and delicious the drinks at the
tables of the kings in the island fortress. I lay you under
obligations, 0 Diarmuidh, to bring me thence food and
drink." " ]Misfortune on the tongue that said the wish % "
said Diarmuidh. " Are the chiefs of the Clann Baoisgne
and the Clann Morna to be left at the mercy of their foes,
while I seek in peril food and drink for Conan the Bald T
" Ah, son of Duine, if a dark or golden-haired young mai-
den had made the request, no complaint would be heard."
" I go ; but if evil befall the Fianna, may your grave be
left without dallan or cromlech ! " As he passed the ford,
and mentioned his errand to Faha, "By the hand of Fionn,"
said he, "I would not like to imperil so many lives to
satisfy foul-mouthed Conan's appetite. Take him food and
drink from this store brought by Mogaeh." " If I did,"
said Diarmuidh, " he would say it was the refuse of the
common fighting men ; and though I would easily survive
a stroke of his sword, I dread his evil tongue,"

So he passed on, and entered the hall where the King of
the World and his son Borb sat at table. Carrying his
naked glaive under his left arm, he advanced to the table ;
and taking bread, and meat, and a flagon of mead from off
it, he turned and quitted the hall. Eyes of warriors and
common fighting men glared on him. But the master of
the feast made no signal of offence, nor spoke word. Ke-

124 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

turning by the ford, he found Faha asleep, but without
waking him he passed on to the quick-beam castle, and
cried, " Here is food and drink, 0 Conan. The door is
firmly closed ; how shall I convey it to you ? " " None of
the Clann Baoisgne equals Diarmuidh in strength and
agility," said Conan, " except Oscar, son of Oisin. It would
be to his disgrace to seek from anyone help or advice."

Diarmuidh stepped back to the ford, and returning with
a war-mace on his shoulder, with a powerful sweep he
struck the thick wall of mighty planks, opposite the head
of Conan. A heavy splinter from the strong boards clash-
ing against his head, caused him to utter such a cry as
shook the building. " Take, O Conan," said Diarmuidh,
" the provisions. May you get from them the full benefit
you deserve." He then returned to the ford where Faha
still slept.

By this time the Kings of the Islands of the Floods had
learned the fate of Mogach, whom they blamed for having
gone to the quick-beam castle. They had brought the en-
chantment on the Curai, and they only should be allowed
to come and slay them. They now proceeded to the ford,
each leading fifty men; and there, mighty in stature, and
terrible in arms and armour, stood the heroic son of
Duine. "Art thou Diarmuidh of the Beauty Spot?'"' said
the kings. " Be certain of it," said he. " That gladdens
us," they replied. "You and we received our military
education at the same college. Xo secret of fight or manage-
ment of arms known by one is unknown to the others. By
our former brotherhood in arms we request you to stand
aside, nor- bar our march to the quick-beam castle." "Evil
you intend Fionn, and Goll, and the rest; so here I remain
to oppose you while I can wield spear, glaive, and buckler.
At dawn my duty ceases, for then four battahons of the
Fionn will be on the plain." " Perish in your rashness ! "
cried the Kuigs of the Islands of the Floods, and the rush
was as that of wild boars, or wolves, or furious stags. Yain
was their strength and fury. Invulnerable he stood ; and
arms, heads, and limbs, were lopped away, as dry boughs
under the axe of the woodman. With the clang and the
outcry went off the sleep of Faha, and right on Diarmuidh

AX BRUIGHEAN CAORTHAIX. 1 25

he ran with levelled javelin for not arousing him before.
Diarmuiclh stepped aside, and full on the foreign soldiers
rushed the chief, and armed and valiant men fell before
him as weak grass. " Eight," said Diarmuidh, " When
the foes have perished to a man, then avenge your wrongs
on me." Diarmuidh was engaged by the three kings, and
terrible was the strife ; for all the skill in stroke and ward
that was ever known to warrior of Erinn or Lochlann, was
possessed by every one of the four. But one by one they
sunk under his crushing blows, and of their force of thrice
fifty swordsmen, not one was left to bear back the news to
the island fortress.

Then proceeded Diarmuidh and Faha to the castle, and
joyfully they greeted the enchanted warriors. Again was
Diarmuidh about to wield the war-mace, and force an en-
trance ; but rionn cried, "The blood of the island kings
applied to the door will open it wide, and being applied to
our persons will restore us to liberty." It was done, and
soon every laoch (hero) had sprung to his feet, and was
rejoicing in his freedom and strength like an unchained
eagle. Conan was the last thought of, and when his turn
came the magic blood was spent. Great were the lamen-
tations of the troublesome man ; but Diarmuidh and Faha
came to the rescue. Taking him by the arms they tore
him from his icy seat, in spite of his fierce outcries, and
long it was before he could walk, chase the deer, or stand
in battle line.

News came to the Monarch of the World of the loss of
his skilful and brave allies ; and at dawn of day he issued
forth on the plain, and with his warlike son Borb, mar-
shalled his host numerous as the forest leaves. By this
time Oisin, and those who had remained with him, and
the four battalions of the Fianna arrived, and were formed
in battle-array by Fionn. In front of the first battalion
were the agile, and strong, and strife-loving chiefs of the
Clann Baoisgne. Before the second, towered Goll, son of
Morna, and the Conacht laochs. The swift and slaugh-
tering sons of Smol led the third ; and the fourth was
commanded by the impetuous sons of Mmhneach. Before
every cliief was borne his banner of silk and gold ; and

126 THE BARDIC STOEIES OF IRELAND.

when the dordfion blew the battle signal, the onset was
as the waves of the ocean meeting a mountain river, or as
two clouds charged with thunder meeting in the sky. Foot
opposed foot, blow met blow, and the war cries and the
clang of the arms rose louder than the roar of ten thou-
sand bulls, or the storm-driven waves flung back to ocean
from the rocks of Einkan Bearra. Stern was the strife
waged by the savage Borb with the stubborn Goll, son of
Morna; but at the end he lay powerless on the bloody turf.
Many were the strong fighting men of the Fianna who
perished by the sw^ord of the King of the World, till he
came before Osgur the peerless, the invincible. Awful was
the strife of the heroes, and the weapons of the surround-
ing warriors were lowered, while they gazed on the fierce
combat. After a long strife, the enraged son of Oisin,
seizing his ponderous glaive with both hands, and rising, in
his might, discharged an irresistible blow on the shoulder of
his foeman. Shield and lorica gave way before the crush-
ing stroke, and with a dismal clang of arms the mighty
chief fell backward on the red turf.

The strife was soon over ; fliight was taken to the bay,
and all w^ho perished not by the swords, and lances, and
javeHns of the Fianna, went sorrowfully in their galleys to
the land of the white strangers.

The MS. from which this legend was taken and condensed, was
lent to the present compiler by the late John Windele, of Cork, a
most estimable man, and zealous archaeologist, .ever indefatigable in
collecting Ogham inscriptions and other traces of early Hfe in our
island. Mr. Windele was always as ready to share his antiquarian
stores with his brother students as he was diligent and eager in
acquiring them.

The Fian legends being composed by different writers, it has hap-
pened that some are as consistent as an ordinary romance, while in
others, the wildest improbabilities, impossibilities even, are introduced.
These last are the productions of the later story-tellers. The following
is a specimen of the degraded Ossianic fiction.

THE CHURL IN THE GREY COAT.
On an occasion, when Fion was holding high festival at his
great dun of Almhuin (Allen), a lame, clumsy, ugly-looking

THE CHURL IN THE GREY COAT. ' J 27

fellow in a great coat, entered uninvited, and sat down at
table. He did not content himself with a seat at the lower
end, but impudently thrust himself between Caeilthe and
Diarmuidh, and began to make free with his neighbours'
plates without leave or licence. All eyes w^ere turned on
the impudent fellow ; even Fionn stared at him with sur-
prise and indignation. " Your looks are saying, 0 Chief of
the Fianna (quoth the grey -coated churl), that no one but
a man of prowess should take such liberties ; but give me
that savoury joint in my hand, and seven yards' law out on
the plain, and if even Caeilthe of the fleet foot catches me,
I'll give him leave to brain me with the bone." A laugh
issued from all mouths at the table, and there was some-
thing so ridiculous in the offer, that Caeilthe sprung up, and
requested the chief to fling the bone and what was on it to
the ignorant clown, to get rid of his odious company. Fionn
did so, and the churl, taking it out on the plain, marked the
point where his pursuer was to take his place. Measuring
seven paces in advance, he shook the prize over his head
and set off limping. Caeilthe made a mighty bound to-
wards him, but the lame fellow limped on, and kept his
odds. The enraged pursuer increased his speed, but so did
the cripple, and shouts of laughter and surprise came from
the knights looking on from the mound. The racers were
nearly out of sight, when all, actuated by one impulse, joined
the chase, which swept onwards between the Shannon and
Erne, over the latter river at the Falls of Ballyshannon,
through the hills of Donegal, over the Foyle, over the Bann,
over Belfast Loch, Strangford Loch, Dundalk Bay, and the
Boyne at its mouth, the racers clearing these waters with
high springs. Caeilthe was thrown out at Ballyshannon,
Fergus at the Foyle, Oisin at the Bann, Oscur at Drogheda ;
but Fionn, aided by the gift received from the Salmon of
Knowledge, held on, and secured the clown as he was pre-
paring to bound from Howth across Dublin Bay. The
wearied runners coming up, would have sacrificed the cun-
ning druid in disguise, but Fionn, contenting himself with
a sound kick that sent him over the strait to Ireland^ s Eye,
led liis wearied knights back to Allen.

128 • THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

THE FIGHT OF CNOC AN AIR (HILL OF SLAUGHTER).

One day, as Fionn and liis laochs were amusing themselves
casting those huge finger-stones, still met in many parts of
Ireland, they beheld approaching a beautiful woman, whose
long hair resembled threads of bright gold. At the sight
they all ceased their sport, and two of them went forward
to give her welcome. Being conducted to the presence of
Fionn, she related her misfortunes and the cause of her visit.

Her father, king of Greece, had married her against her
will to Talc Mac Treon, whose face was black as a crow's
wing, and who bore the ears and tail of a cat ; and she had
now travelled every kingdom in the world without being
able to find a knight who would deliver her from the
monster, for no one was ever found able to exchange three
blows with him in battle. Fionn generously promised her
his protection ; and just at that moment the terrible Talc
was seen makmg towards them with gigantic strides. He
demanded his wife, but neither Avould she go back with
him, nor would the Fians resign her to his ill-treatment.
A hundred tried warriors in turn were encountered and
slain by Talc Mac Treon, and then Osgur was let loose upon
him. They fouglit five days and five nights, and the cruel,
deformed giant fell at last by the sword of his matchless
foe. The poor lady did not survive the recovery of her
liberty ; she fell dead of grief for the loss of the Fian heroes
who had fallen in her defence.

Osgur's wounds and bruises had scarcely time to heal,
when a kinsman of Talc, ISIergach of the sharp spears, landed
in a neighbouring bay at the head of a strong fleet to avenge
his death. He proceeded to the Hill of Slaughter, re-
proached Fionn vdth the death of Talc and his wife, and
challenged the whole force to meet him next day in mortal
fight. Fionn knew, by the virtue of his thumb, the great
prowess of Mergach, and after his departure he requested
the battalion of smooth and fresh heroes to meet the foe.
They said they were ready — so said the battalion of the
" chieftains," so said the battalion of the " middle-sized
men," so said the battalion of the " middle-aged," so said
the battalion of the " stout men ; " the battalion of " small

fHE FIGHT OF CNOC AN AIR. 1 29

men" were ready, and the battalion of the <'rereguard"
would be offended if they did not get the post of danger.

Kext morning Caoin struck the warning battle-blow on
his shield, and Mergach seeing it was neither Fionn nor
Osgur, sent forward Donn Dorcan to fight in his place.
The two champions contended in "battle and conflict " from
morning to eve, and then the stranger sunk beneath the
strong arm of the Fian. "When Mergach saw the fall of his
hero, "he armed his well-projjortioned, elegant body in
battle-armour for conflict and death," and did not wait long
till there stood before him the unconquered son of Oisin ;
and on the side of Cnoc-an-Air they fought in stern conten-
tion for ten days. They rested every night, and on the
ninth day they were only known by their voices. ISIergach
was flung on the sod on the last morning of fight, and the
shout of triumph rose from the hosts of the Fianna'; but he
sprung up again in vigour, and Osgur, for the first time, fell
under his shield from a mighty stroke of Mergach's two-
edged, broad, and pointed sword. Then rose a yell of grief,
and woe, and shame from the seven battalions of Erinn.
It came sharp on the ears of the fallen warrior, and, with a
spring, he was once more erect, and his sharp, heavy blade
waving above his bright, four-ridged, pointed helm; the
next instant it was on the neck of mighty Mergach, and
that warrior's head was shorn off", and flung ten fathoms
from his lifeless trunk.

Then did Ciardan's brother, Lliegan the active, strike his
shield, and lay low Ciaran, son of Lucha. With Ciaran
perished JSIagnus Mac Lovaran and a hundred men ; and
at last Conan, the unvaliant and bald, stood before the son
of Mergach. " Begone, thou silly coward ! " said the hero;
" I will not stain sworcl or lance in thy thin blood.'^ " If
thou despise me," said Conan, " at least dread the man at
thy back." Then did Lliegan look behind, and his head
was shorn from his broad shoulders by the sharp blade of
the bald, foul-tongued old man. Dalchai the Stranger then
waved his sword, and soon the warriors of Fionn were in
grief, for the valiant Faelan was driven behind his shield by
his strong might. They roused a shout of woe and terror,
and it awakened the mighty Osgur from his low couch of

9

130 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

rushes, where lie was reposing from his fierce toil He
approached the chief and said : " 0 Fionn, I thought by
that cry of sorrow that the clan Baoisgne was no more."
He shouted to the weakened champion, " Think of former
triumphs and fame, 0 Fselan ! shake off sloth ; remember
that Fionn, GoU, Diarmuidh, and Mac Lucha, have their
eyes on thy sword-haft." Then sat fury on the shield of
Fselan, and the mighty Dalchai he slew with a furious
stroke. Another chief of fame, Ciaoin Mac Lachtna, also
fell before his strong might, and then the strife was ended
for a time by the appearance of a stately woman of beau-
teous countenance, Ailne, wife of Mergach. The strangers
feebly came behind, and the Fianna gathered to listen to
her words. She demanded her husband and sons, and was
told that they had fallen in manly fight and contention
with the Fians of Erinn. She fell helpless on the plain,
and her people were in tears, and the warriors of Erinn
were sad for her deep sorrow.

When she came to herself she sang a wild caoin^ over
the bodies, every verse beginning with the words Mo Chuma
(my grief), and recited the omens which foretold her loss.
The fairy host that fought in the clouds over the dun, the
tears of blood on the cheeks of her warriors as they left
home, the vulture's croak, the forgotten leashes of the
hounds, the waterfall changed to red gushing spray, the
eagle hovering over the fort in the evening, the huge tree
withering, the flight of the raven before them, the howling of
the dogs at night, the tears found on her cheeks in the mor-
ning, the dream of her own head and hands being cut off, and
the vision of the pool of blood where the dun ought to be.

Then she accused the Fians that they had slain her hus-
band and sons by treachery, or by disabling them before
the fight by magic spells. And Fionn and Fionn's wife
felt her woe, and solemnly swore that no evil or magic art
had been used, and that the Fians were blameless, as they
only fought in the defence of their land and their own lives.
But the heart- sore Ailne would not be comforted, and she
would have the fight renewed. Fionn was sparing of the
blood of friends and foes, and negotiated till she was satis-
fied with a combat of thirty warriors on either side.

THE FIGHT OF CNOC AN AIR. 13J

Then Fionn's wife, the Princess Grainne, invited the
sorrowful lady to sup with herself and the chiefs, but she
would not ; and Conan, the foul-mouthed, abused her for
her pride, and even ran at her with his pointed sword ; but
the noble Osgur struck him down, and caused him to howl
with pain.

Next morning Grainne took Ailne by the hand, and they
stood between the two hosts ; and Daire sounded his bugle,
and Fionn, the Bar-bua, and the heroes gathered in face of
each other; and, as in a match of hurling or comaun,
Grainne and Ailne called out in turn, till thirty stout,
Avell-armed, eager, and skilful men stood in shining arms
on either side. Among them were Gavan, who had slain
in one day three hundred and sixteen foes ; Euane, who
would not crush the dry grass in running ; Conran, who
never left a bone unbroken in a foeman ; Cosgar, who would
strike a head a mile from the body ; and Minaar, who would
outrun the wild deer.

At the close of the conflict, two Fians only were able to
wield spear or buckler, but life remained not in a single
hero of the strangers. Then did Grainne once again entreat
Ailne to be satisfied, and depart with her still numerous
host. But hate and sorrow were strong at her heart ; and
Fionn, resenting her determined wish for slaughter, sounded
a vengeful call on the Bar-Bua, and the general fight com-
menced. When it was ended, the revengeful lady had
barely three of her people left, and with these she quitted
the terrible field of Cnocan-Air.

There fell of the Fians on the Hill of Slaughter, Conn
Ciarra and Dralla Fhmn, who would not give way to any
power of earth, or sea, or air ; Luanan, the strong and swift,
who would bring the wild boar from the hills ; mighty
Cruagan, who would devour a cow and forty cakes of bread
at a meal ; Caeil, who was sv/ifter than the wind ; Dorcan,
the hacker of body and bones ; and many another terrible
gaisca. Fionn, much chagrined at the death of the fair
princess and so many brave chiefs, friends and foes, soon
quitted the Hill of Slaughter, and, with his surviving
laochs, went to chase the wild deer by Loch Lene.

9*

132 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

The poem of which the skeleton is here ^ven, was edited, with a
literal translation, for the Ossianic Society, by Mr. John O'Daly,
whose exertions for the preservation of old GaeHc lores are, or at least
should be, known and appreciated by every well- wisher to our national
literature.

THE FIANS AT THE HOUSE OF CUANA.

FiONN once sought a night's repose in the house of Conane
of the hill ridge, and took things with somewhat of a high
hand. This, however, did not prevent the master of the
house from subjecting him to the necessity of answering
various questions with the strictest regard to truth. It is
not easy to ascertain why the Fianna were obliged to per-
form any duty, however unpleasant — that was imposed on
them by women — young, fair, old, or ugly — or even men who
chose to assume the office of task-imposers. Conane asked
Fionn the meaning of the expression, " As Fionii went to
the house of Guana," and the following is the explanation
given. A version of the story may be seen in the second
volume of the " Ossianic Transactions."

" Oisin, Caeilthe, Mac Lucha, Diarmuidh O'Duine, and
myself were on a day of the days on the summit of Cairn
Fearguil outside of Luimneach (Limerick) and five hounds
\nih us — that is to say Brann, Sceoluing, Feardubh, Liav-
leachra, and the swift-footed hound; and we were not long
there till we saw a large, immensely-rough giant coming
towards us, and an iron fork on his shoulders, and a pig
screeching between the prongs, and a handsome, tine un-
married woman walking after him, and scourging him
before her. ' Let me go to accost them,' said Diarmuidh
O'Duine, and he went after them. It was not long until I
and the other three that were with me went after Diarmuidh
and the giant. We overtook Diarmuidh, but neither he
nor we could see the giant nor the girl. For there was a
Druidic fog between us and them, and we could not see
which way they took.

" However, as we were looking and waiting for the fog
to clear, I saw the house of Guana (elegant, artful) at the
edge of the plain. We went towards it, and there was a

THE FIANS AT THE HOUSE OF GUANA. I33

bawn before the house, and two wells in it — namely, a well
with a coarse iron vessel on the brink, and a well with a
wooden vessel on the brink of it.

" We entered the house, and the only people in it were
a young, serious, fair-haired warrior sitting at the jamb of
the door, and the young damsel sitting beside him, and the
rough giant sitting at the fire, boiling the pig, and an old
grey-headed man of large features sitting at the other side
of the fire. And there was a ram inside with a white belly
and a black head, two dark bluish green horns, and four
green legs. There was a cailleach at the bottom of the
room with dark green clothes, and there was no one in the
room but these six.

" The young man of the door-jamb welcomed myself,
and we sat on the floor near the upper end, and our hounds
with us. ' Let there be humble deference shown to Fionn,
son of Cumhall, and to his people,' said the young man of
the jamb. * I hate,' said the giant, ' for a person to be
asked to pay respect to others, while neither much nor little
of it is given to himself.' However, he rose up and paid
obedience to me.

" I became very thirsty, and no one brought me drink,
and so Caeilthe was much grieved, and stood up. ' You
need not be troubled, 0 Caeilthe,' said the young man. ' Go
into the bawn, and bring Fionn a drinji from the well you
prefer." Caeilthe did so, and brought me the wooden
vessel full. I drank, and while it was in my mouth, the
taste of it was like honey ; but when it was swallowed it
was more bitter than gall. I felt sharp pains all over me ;
my breath was stopped, and the appearance of my face was
altered.

" Then was Caeilthe in much sorrow and suffering till
the young man said to him, ' Go into the bawn, 0 Caeilthe,
and bring in full the iron vessel from the other well.'
Caeilthe did so, and offered me the vessel, and I put it to
my head. And I never suffered so much in hot conflict of
battle, nor ever before endured such pain as when it was
in my mouth. But when I laid down the vessel, my pains
were gone, and the natural appearance of my face was re-
turned, and my people rejoiced.

134 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

" Then the yonng man of the jamb asked if the pig was
cooked. * It is,' said the giant. ' Then give it to me/ said
he, ' till I divide it.' ' What share will you make of it 1 '
said the giant. ' I will give the hind-quarter of it to Fionn
and his hounds first,' said the young man, 'and then I will
give the other hind-quarter to his four young warriors, and
a quarter of the head to their four hounds, and another
quarter of the head to myself. The rest of the head and
the back T give to the old man by the fire and the cailleach
in the corner, and the entrails and legs to that young wo-
man and myself.'

" ' On my word/ said the old man, * you have shared her
well.' ' On my word,' said the ram, ' you have not ; and
evil was your neglect of myself,' And as he spoke he made
a pounce on the quarter that had fallen to the share of
Fionn's young men, and took it from them in their despite,
and began to eat it. The young warriors took their glaives,
and struck at the ram, and they might as well have been
hewing at a hard rock. They then went back sorrowfully,
and sat in their places on the ground. ' Upon my consci-
ence ! ' said the old man at the fire, ' sorrowful it is to sit
in company with four warriors who cannot hinder a sheep
from eating their share of food, and that in their own pre-
sence.' As he said that, I seized the ram and caught him
by the two legs, and threw him with all my might outside
the door, and he fell on the broad of his back, and we saw
no more of him.

" Shortly after that the cailleach rose out of her corner
and flung her dark-green mantle on my four warriors, and
made of them four shaking, drivelling, withered old men,
and then I sorrowed, and gi-eat fear came upon me. When
the young man at the jamb of the door saw that, he asked
me to sit beside him, and he cast me into a deep sleep, and
the cailleach removed her mantle from the shoulders of the
warriors, and they were restored to their strength and their
first appearance. When I awoke and found them so, great
was my joy.

" ' Fionn/ said the young man at the jamb, * are you not
astonished at the order and situation of this house ? ' I de-
clared that I never saw anything more astonishing than it.

THE FIANS AT THE HOUSE OP CUANA. 1 35

' Then I shall explain it to you,' said he. * The giant that
you saw first with the pig screeching in the mouth of the
fork, is he yonder, and his name is Ldsge (sloth) ; and this
damsel by me was she that was whipping him, and her
name is Meanamna (animation, energy, vigour), for anima-
tion drives sloth before her, and goes as far in the winking
of an eye as sloth would in twelve months. The old man
by the fire is Seagha Caol Lear (craft}^, slender, clear-sight-
ed) ; and the ram is called Cionta an Duine (guilt of man).
The caillcach is An Criona (old age). Her mantle brings the
young and strong to weakness and wretchedness. The two
wells are Lying and Truth-telling ; for as sweet as a lie is
in the telling, so bitter does it turn out when told. My
name is Guana, of Inis Cuileann (Holly Isle), though it is
not there I am accustomed to be ; and it was an excessive
love I had harboured for you on account of your valour and
sensibility, that made me put the giant in your way. Now
bring all your people here, and let them enjoy sleep till
morning.' I did so ; and when we woke at dawn, we found
ourselves on the grassy side of Cairn Fearguil, with our
dogs and our arms near us. And that is the style in which
Fionn paid a visit to the house of Guana."

This odd legend slightly resembles Thor's journey to TJtgard, and
the delusions practised on him. Both the legends owed their existence
to some myth known to the ancestors of Teutons and Celts before
their Separation in Central Asia.

THE FORTUNES OF DIARMUIDH AND GRATNNE.

Maghneis, the fair and stately wife of Fionn, having been
taken from him by death, and the sorrow of loneliness
pressing on him, he was advised by his chiefs, viz., Oisin
and Gaeilthe Mac Eonain, to ask in marriage Grainne, the
beauteous and proud daughter of Gormac, son of Art, son
of Gonn, king of Erinn. Gonsent was given by the father,
and not refused by the daughter, but she had loved Diar-
muidh from the day on which she had seen him defeat at
hurling the most active men of the Fianna. So, while

136 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

they kept higli state and feasting at Tara, she gave to all
that sat at table drink from an enchanted cup, which had
the effect of inducing a deep slumber, hut to Diarmuidh
she did not offer it ; and now she laid geasa on him that he
should depart from the palace with her, and make her his
wife. This brought grief and woe into the heart of the
faithful partizan, but to refuse the demand of the princess
would deprive him of the name of hero. The gates were
guarded, and he would not leave the fortress through the
wicket of the ladies ; so with his two tall, strong spears
to aid, he bounded over the ramparts, and met the prin-
cess on the plain.

Fionn, when he awoke and heard what had occurred,
was filled with grief and rage, and pursued the fugitives,
but he could not get sympathy from Oisin, from Osgur,
from Diorrhing, from Mac Lucha, or Caeilthe. They knew
the reluctance of Diarmuidh to what he was obhged by the
demands of Grainne, and that he did not make the princess
his wife till stung to deep resentment by the vengeful
pursuit of his chief.

After many combats and escapes, they approached the
coast of Kerry, and there Diarmuidh beheld a fleet ap-
proaching the shore. This fleet was commanded by three
chiefs called respectively Black Foot, White Foot, and Strong
Foot, and their object was to take himself living or dead
They asked him had he seen the outlaw, and he answered
that he had seen him yesterday, and proposed that they
should bring out a hogshead of wine till he would show
them a trick. He stood on the hogshead, and drove it to
the top of a hill, and then rolled it back to the shore, him-
self still standing as at first straight on it as it rolled.
" Bah !" said one of the captains, " that trick is not worth
showing ; I'll do the same." He got the cask to the top
of the hill, mounted on it, and with the first motion of the
vessel he fell forward, and was killed by the cask plunging
over him. Fifty captains tried the exploit that day, and
in the evening they were numbered among the dead.

Next day he came to the shore again ; and on being
asked his news, he said he had seen a man who had seen
Diarmuidh that morning, and proposed another game to

THE FORTUNES OF DIARMUIDH AND GRAINNE. I37

pass the day. He set the yellow spear of Lear upright in
the ground, point upwards, and springing aloft, he came
down straight on the point with the sole of his right foot,
and bounded lightly to the earth.

" That trick is only fit to be shown to children," said a
young warrior ; " behold how easily it is done ! " and
springing up, he came down heavily on the enchanted
spear-point. Fifty stout men were lost on that day to
Fionn, because they would contend in the dangerous game
of the yellow spear.

Next day he presented himself with two long forked
poles, which he set upright ; and between the forks, with
its edge upwards, he placed the great and fierce sword of
Aongus of the Brugh, the Moraltha (Great Bitter One).
Springing from the turf, he lighted on it, walked from hilt
to point along its edge, and then leaping to the ground, he
asked whether it was a feat worth imitation. It was dis-
paraged as before, and fifty lives were lost showing how
easy it was in the doing. This day he promised to show
them Diarmuidh on the morrow.

The following account of what occurred is taken from
Transactions of the Ossianic Society, vol. iii. : " Diarmuidh
rose at early dawn, and girt about him his suit of battle and
conflict, under which, through which, or over which, it was
not possible to wound him. And he took the Moraltha,
which left no stroke nor blow unfinished. He took, like-
wise, his two thick-shafted javelins of battle, the Ga-buie
(yellow dart) and the Ga-dherg (red dart), from which no
man or woman that had been wounded by them recovered.
When Grainn4 beheld Diarmuidh with
bravery and daring (clothed) in his suit of anger and of

battle, fear and great dread seized her

Then he drew near to the host of the green Fianna, and
began to slaughter and discomfort them heroically and with
swift valour, so that he rushed under them, and through
them, and over them, as a hawk would go through small
birds, or a wolf through a large flock of small sheep. Even
thus it was that Diarmuidh hewed crossways the glittering,
very beautiful mail of the men of Lochlann ; so that there
went not a man from that spot without having the grievous-

138 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

ness of death and the final end of life executed upon him,
but the three green chiefs and a small number of their
people." ....

And the three green chiefs, and their three enchanted
hounds, and all that could be sent against Diarmuidh,
perished either by a squeeze of his strong arms, or the edge
of the Moraltha, or the points of the yellow javelin or the
red javelin ; and at last Fionn was obliged to apply to the
great witch his nurse. She came above Diarmuidh when
he was hunting, and seated on a huge water lily, she poured
through a gap in its middle, resembling the hole in a quern-
stone, darts and rocks, tiU he was deeply exasperated, so
much so, indeed, that he was forced to the extreme measure
of lying on his back, and making a powerful cast of the
Ga-dherg at his tormentor. She fell headlong through the
hole, and no more is told of her.

The father of Diarmuidh was Donn, son of Donagh, by
whom, when young, he was committed to the care of the
great enchanter of the Danaan race, Aongus of the Brugh,
on the Boyne (near Stackallen). A son of a vassal or far-
mer of Donn's was also committed to the care of the people
of the sage Aongus, and this circumstance gave some annoy-
ance to the father of Diarmuidh.

Anciently in Ireland kings and chiefs were endowed with
singular privileges, and placed under very singular restraints
or geasachs, such as eating or not eating of fish caught in
such and such lakes or streams, or walking or not walking
in certain meadows. One restriction laid on the Chief of
the Fianna was, that he should never sleep ten nights in
succession in his palace of Almhuin ; and one day he was
reminded of the unpleasant predicament of being obliged
to go look for lodgings that very evening. While he was
debating where he should take his rest, Donn invited him
to the Brugh to visit Aongus, and thither they went. They
were welcomed and entertained, and the son of Donn and
the son of the farmer played together ; and as fond as
Aongus was of Diarmuidh, so fond were the servants of
the farmer's child. Two of the stag hounds quarreled
about the bones, and some of those at the feast went to
part them, and the women and domestics were frightened,

THE FORTUNES OF DIARMUIDH AND GRAINNE. T39

and there was great disturbance, and the child of the far-
mer got between Donn's knees, and either through inadver-
tence or design he was squeezed to death.

When the father found his child no more, he uttered
cries of sorrow, and demanded of Fionn eric for his loss,
which he agreed to give, provided the mark of a hound's
tooth or paw was found on him. There was none, and then
he laid the dire injunction of the Druid's Cave of Cruachan
on him (Fionn) that he should reveal the slayer. Fionn
called for a chess-board and water, and put his thumb be-
tween his teeth, and distinctly saw the circumstances of the
child's death. Then, without revealing the slayer, he offered
to pay the eric himself, but the father refused, and obliged
-him to name the perpetrator. When he heard the name,
he said it was easy for Donn to pay him by giving up his
son Diarmuidh to himself to be served in the same way.
This request annoyed Aongus and enraged Donn, but the
bereaved father would not be otherwise appeased. He drew
forth a wand of sorcery, and striking the lifeless body of his
son, it became a living green pig, without ears or tail, and
rushed forth through the open door. " I lay the spell of
power on thee," said the enchanter, " that thou live as long
as the son of Donn, and that thou destroy him at last."
He departed ; discomfort and sorrow staid behind, and
Aongus laid geasa on Diarmuidh that he should never hunt
a boar by day or night.

During the pursuit of himself and Grainne by Fionn,
Aongus had never deserted them for a day. When besieg-
ed in a thicket, or beset in the branches of the tree of
magic berries, he always conveyed Grainne away in his
cloak, leaving the knight to free himself by lance and sword.
Fionn at last, dismayed by the havoc made among his allies
by the weapons of Diarmuidh, and the estrangement of
Osgur and the other well-wishers of the hero, proposed
peace. It was accepted, and the barony in which the Dowse
mountain of Wicklow stands, and the barony of Corca-
Dhuin^, in Kerr}', and the barony of Ceash-Coran, in Sligo,
were granted to the hard-hunted pair, and in the last local-
ity they settled to repose from their fears and fatigues ;

140 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

and their resting-places during their wanderings are still
pointed out by our peasantry.

But even in this Elysian epoch of glory, human happi-
ness was not without its alloy in Erinn. Grainne, at the
head of a princely table, with the second best champion in
the world for her loving husband (Osgur being the first),
with brave sons and fair daughters, should in an evil hour
invite Cormac her father, and Fionn, the rejected of her
youth, to witness her happiness and her triumph. Diar-
muidh gave an unwilling consent, though he yearned for
the society of his tried brothers in arms, Oisin, Osgur,
Caeilthe, Dhiorring, IMac Lucha, and Foelan. The festival
was a year in preparation, and they spent a year in enjoy-
ing it.

On the last night of that year Diarmuidh was awaked
three times by the yelling of a hound, heard only by him,
and at dawn he quitted the rath against Grainne's wish.
She requested that he would at least take wdth him the
Moraltha and the Ga-dherg, but he would only take the
Begaltha (small bitter one) and the Ga-buie, and the " Son
of the Hazel," his favourite hound. Nothing is said of his
journey till he came to the Hill of Ben-Gulban, and there
he met Fionn alone. Fionn informed him that his people
were chasing the green cropped boar of Ben-Gulban, and
that he had already slain thirty of them since the chase had
begun. He then gave an account of the entertainment at
the Brugh of the Boyne when Diarmuidh was a boy, of the
transformation of the dead child to a boar, and of the pro-
hibition laid on him (Diarmuidh) never to follow s\vine in
any shape in the chase. Oddly enough, Diarmuidh knew
nothing of the geasa under which he lay, and though un-
furnished with the sword or spear of power, he was firmly
resolved to give battle to the enchanted enemy of his house.

Just then the shouts of the hunters, the baying of the
hounds, and the rushing of the furious beast up the tulach
(mound), were plainly heard ; and as the furious and fell
savage was rushing on the doomed hero, he put his finger
in the silken loop of the yellow- shafted javelin, and smote
him unerringly in the mid forehead. It glanced off as from
a hard stone wall, and when he struck the boar a furious

THE FORTUNES OF DIARMUIDH AND GRAINNE. 141

blow with the Begaltha, the blade of inferior power flew in
two pieces.

The enchanted boar rushed wildly on him, and seizing
him with his savage tusks, tore his flesh and inflicted w^ounds
on his body ; but with strength more than human, he flung
the hilt of his faithless blade against its forehead, and sent
it rolling lifeless down the tulach. And from that day the
spot is called the " Mound of the Sword-hilt."

Then Diarmuidh, feeling the signs of dissolution coming
on him, besought Fionn to give him a drink from the palms
of his hands, and restore him to strength and vigorous life ;
for Fionn had received that powder along wdth the gift of
clear knowledge. Fionn, in reply, reproached him for the
wrong he had wrought him ; but Diarmuidh defended his
conduct by the impossibility of denying the princess's re-
quest, and reminded him of several occasions on which he
had saved the Hves of himself and the Fianna, especially
at the ford of the quick-beam castle. Oisin, Osgur, and the
others having arrived, earnestly pressed their chief to save
the life of Diarmuidh, their dear brother in arms and love.
He said no water was nigh ; but a well was shown him nine
ridges off". He went slowly, he returned more slowly, and
the water was out of his fingers into the grass before he had
retraced four steps. Then did the mournful shouts of the
Fianna fill his heart with fear and anger, and he returned
to the spring. Hundreds of eyes were darting rays of
eagerness and intense fear on his hands, as he returned the
second time to the expiring hero ; but when he stood by
his side, his palms were dry as the brown leaves at Samhain.
Then cried Osgur, and his voice shook the rocks on the
opposite hill : " 0 Fionn, if you bring not the life-giving
draught, one or both of us will never see the bottom of this
tulach in life." Diarmuidh turned his dying looks in love
on the noble-hearted Osgur ; but wdien the hard-hearted
chief was holding the draught of life in mockery to his lips,
they were closed in cold and rigid death.

The faithful Fians raised three shouts of heavy sorrow
over the body of their lost brother, and then covered it
decently with their mantles. The woe and resentment of
Grainne cannot be told. She uttered a heart-rending caoine

142 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

over her brave and faithful lord ; and in time her sons
brought forces countless as the sands against the ungene-
rous chief who had suffered him to perish.

And Fionn and his forces would have fallen before the
sons of Diarmuid — Donoch, Achy, Connda, Silshara, and
loUan, but for the sagacity of the clear-minded chief. Un-
bidden and unexpected, he presented himself to the sight
of Grainne in one of her lonely walks of sadness. She bit-
• terly reproached him, and he answered not in justification.
Twdce seven times did he endure her wrath ; but she tired
of resentment before he tired of abiding it. With wdse
words he justified himself against some charges, and on love
for herself he laid the blame of the rest.

The gallant sons of Diarmuidh returned from collecting
and mustering their forces and their alHes ; and on the
plain before the dun they were received by the right hand
of Grainn^, while her left grasped that of the chief of the
Fians. They burned to revenge the death of their father ;
but how could they seek the life of their mother's husband ?

The remains of the gallant Diarmuidh were not left to
the care of wife nor children. The sage Aongus had them
conveyed to the Brugh, and there they were preserved for
long centuries.

A myth antecedent to the classic days of Greece and Rome fur-
nished the subject of this legend to the Celts, and of " Venus and
Adonis " to classic poets, and of the youth worshipped and bewailed
once a year by Assyrian women, and recorded in undying verse by
Milton. The Marquis of Lorn shares, in common with the Mac
Dermots of Coolavin in Sligo, a conviction of descent from " Brown
Diarmaid." [Scotch spelling of Diarmuidh.]

OISIN IN TIR NA-N-OGE.
!MosT of the great Fenians were dead and gone — Fionn slain
by treachery at the Boyne, Diarmuidh slain by the green
boar of Ben Gulban, and Mac Lucha and the peerless Osgur
slain in the fatal fight of Gavra, as told in Legendary Fic-
tions of the Irish Celts. While Oisin, with a remnant of his
tribe was enjoying the excitement of the chase among the

OISIN IN TIR NA-N-OGE. 1 43

mist-covered hills that surround Loch Lene (Lakes of Kil-
larney), a beauteous fawn started before the hounds, and led
them westwards, through deep defiles, over mountains, and
through woods, till all the hunters were left far behind
Oisin and the faithful and fleet hounds, Brann and Sceol-
luing. They were drawn on, not by desire of the death of
the beautiful fawn, but a wish to secure her to come and
play with them round the dun. They were near her traces
as they pressed on through a thick forest, but when the;^
emerged on a plain which bordered a sheltered bay, no trace
of their deer was to be descried. A maiden of the most rare
beauty, mounted on a white steed, was seen advancing
towards them. Her hair was the colour of red gold, her
robes of green and azure silk, and wreaths of diamonds and
pearls decked her head, and encircled her neck and shoulders.
Oisin stood wrapped in an ecstasy of love and wonder,
while, in words of enchanting power and sweetness, she told
him that she was the daughter of the king of the " Land of
Youth,'' that lay under the great western sea, where Diar-
muidh, Osgur, Mac Lucha, and the six brave sons of Cseilthe
Mac Konain, were now resting from their fatigues. She then
acknowledged that she had heard so much of his valour, his
poetic powers, and his present loneliness, that she had come
up to earth to see him with her own ejes, and to convey
him with her to Tir na-n-Oge, if he thought her worthy to
be his wife. She had scarcely done speaking, w^hen Oisin
was standing by the side of the white steed, and kissing the
rosy-tipped fingers of the sea-maid.

Little persuasion was needed for the gallant and bereaved
hero. He was soon seated before her on the docile steed,
and its head was turned to the setting sun, when the cries
of the poor dogs sent a sharp pang through his heart. He
turned and stretched out his hand to caress their heads ;
but the fair and considerate princess had no wish that their
happy journey should begin in sorrow. She lightly struck
their heads with a wand of witch hazel, and with joyful
cries they bounded along their path, and chased each other
in joyful springs around the graceful horse. When the
hunters arrived at the edge of the wood, the waves were
just touching the silver shoes of the steed, and when they

144 THE BARDIC STORIES OP IRELAND.

reached the strand, the hounds and horse were on the open
ocean, pacing as over a firm grassy plain ; and their lost
brother chief, and the fair princess seated behind him, were
waving adieux of affection and regret.

They rode a hundred miles along the dancing waves, and
the distance seemed not a field's length, nor the time the
counting of half a hundred ; and then the waves rose round
them in green transparent walls, and formed a sparkling
roof of emerald and amethyst above their heads, and they
were in the palace of the king of the " Land of Youth."
They were encircled by youths and maidens with joy on
their tongues, smiles on their faces, and youth and beauty
in their graceful forms ; and Oisin became the husband of
the princess, and the loved and esteemed chief of the happy
dwellers of the paradise under the sea. Great was the en-
joyment of the son of Fionn, but in one respect he had been
deceived. He hoped to find the loved companions of his
earthly pleasures, chases, and battles before him, and when
he spoke to his devoted princess about them he got but
confused and evasive replies. After some efforts he ceased
to make enquiry, as he saw that he only gave pain, and ob-
tained no intelligence.

And now for a space the happiness of Oisin was perfect.
His wife was all that an amiable wife should be, watcliing
his every wish, allowing him freely to ramble through the
land even without her society, but ever marking his return
with the smile and embrace of a heart-welcome. After a
lapse of what seemed a quarter'of the ever- varying year, he
found himself growing insensible to the happiness he knew
he possessed, even as dehght in the bright sunshine on
earth would be unfelt if the dark intervals of night did not
intervene. He longed for the fatigues of the chase, that he
might enjoy the hours of rest. He felt no hunger, there-
fore the sight of the splendid feast gave him no pleasure.
He feared not an invasion to wrest away his land, nor an
ambitious or successful rival in the affections of his wife.
If he were obhged to put on armour, and wield sword or
spear, to guard for himself his beauteous and affectionate
princess or his delightful land, then he would value them
as they deserved. Even Brann and Sceolluing gave him no

OISIN IN TIR NA-N-OGE.. J 45

comfort. If not leisurely taking their ever ready food, they
slumbered lazily on their soft beds ; and when their master
gathered resolution to walk to their huts, and caress their
silky heads or backs, they moved their tails and ears with
trouble, and just opening their eyes to recognize their lord,
they closed them again in weak and unrefreshing sleep.
He grew so disheartened at last that he inquired no more
for the Fenian heroes ; but he vaguely cherished a hope
that they might have returned to Erinn, and be now en-
gaged as of old, in chase, in fight, at the feast, or listening
to the bards. Xo chagrin or peevishness of his ever drew
complaint or reproach from the princess ; and at times he
endeavoured to repay her unvarying sweetness and cordia-
lity by an outward show of strong affection.

At last his desire of a change and of hearing of his former
comrades grew so strong, that he requested his princess to
allow him to revisit his former haunts in Erinn, promising
to return with speed, and repay her compliance with tenfold
love and tenderness. Tears fell from the eyes of the lo\dng
woman. She said that her soul was chilled with fear that
if he once quitted her she would never see him again, that
obstacles wliich he could not surmount would prevent his
return to Tir na-n-oge. His love for his wife and his eager-
ness to depart strengthened with every word, and at last
she thought better to let him depart, in hope of rekindling
their once enjoyed felicity, than to render his existence
pleasureless by retaining him against his will.

So she commanded the white steed which had borne them
across the sea to be brought forth ; and while her eyes
overflowed with tears, she addressed her lord : " My only
happiness, you are leaving me in misery, and my heart tells
me that we shall never meet again. Love is only asleep in
your heart, not dead, and the memory of the days we have
passed together will torture you while you are allowed to
feel. Mount our trusty, charmed steed, and dismount not
for any cause or motive till you return, for if your foot, or
hand, or body touch the soil of Erinn, there you will remain
with a burthen of years and weakness on your frame till
relieved by a lingering death. Oh ! mo chuma ! Oh ! my
heart's pulse! how shall I endure existence without you!"

146 THE BARDIC STORIES OP IRELAND.

The affection wtdcli was only slumbering in the heart of the
hero now flowed forth on the devoted woman, and he half
resolved to give np his journey ; but old memories, love of
change, and desire to break up the uniformity of his quiet,
unruffled felicity prevailed. He mounted the white charger,
folded his wife in one parting embrace, shot upwards, and
was presently moving in the free upper air, along the spark-
ling surface of ocean.

Oh ! how enchanting was the view of the old island of
his youth ! How delightful the varied surface of forest,
meadow, rock, mountain, and lake, as they once more blessed
his eyes ! Xot only was his sight, but his hearing, and even
his smell entranced by the recovered sounds and scents of
former days. He would have sprung to the turf and kissed
it, only for the charge now faintly remembered. But he
became soon aware of many changes. He repaired to a near
fort of the Fianna, and found nothing but a grassy hillock,
except where a building of rough stone, with a pinnacle
surmounted by a cross, stood on the once site of the great
hall. He saw men and women kneeling before the door ;
he heard the tinkle of bells, and soon beheld a procession
with silk canopy, cross, pastoral staff, and richly-wrought
banners, and a man clothed in gorgeous vestments holding
an Object of Adoration in a golden shrine ; he heard the
music of sweet hymns as they slowly moved round an en-
closure, and saw all the assisting crowd bend their heads in
adoration to the earth. He involuntarily stooped his head
to the horse's mane, and moved not till the procession had
re-entered the building, till the bells had ceased to sound,
and the crowds had begun to disperse. He then accosted
one who passed close by where he stood, and who, with all
in the assembly, was now admiringly scanning the mighty
form, the quaint equipments, and the charmed steed of the
warrior : " I pray, to which of the divinities have you been
paying your devotional duties — to Beal, to Samain, to Lear,
or to the spirits of the hills, the lakes, or the woods?"
" We adore not these creatures or spirits, noble stranger.
We adore the Creator of earth and men, of Beal and of
Samain, and of those spirits, if such there be, who watch
over the surface or the depths of earth and ocean ! " " But

OISIN IN TIR NA-N-OGE. 1 4;

how long has this new worship prevailed, 0 courteous
informant ? " " In the manhood of Patrick the cleric it
commenced, and now the holy man's steps are feeble with
age, and his hair is white. The world's Lord sent him to
us from the land of the Gaul." "And why did not the
Fianna of Erinn prevent the approach of himself and his
troops with spear and buckler? " "Ah I he came unattended
with spear-man or shield-bearer. His only arms were a
charmed book, and a cross, a shamrock, and what I may
not name to pagan ears ; and against these, shield and helm
were as the leaves of the dock-weed, and spear and sword
as the pointed rush of the marsh." " Oh ! mo chuma !
But where dwell the Fians of Fael, who held watch within
this fort when the sacred fires were lighted on the last feast
of Samain 1 " " Fians ! No Fenian heroes have trod this
ground for three times fifty years. Fionn was slain, so was
the noble Osgur, so was the son of Lucha, and since the
bloody field of Gavra, no chief of the tribes of Baoisgne or
Mac Morua has made himself spoken of. The last known of
Oisin, the noble, the poetic, is that he was seen on a white
steed, which alsa bore a lady brighter than Beal in beauty,
and that their course, together with the trusty hounds of
Fionn, was towards the happy island of ' Hy Breasil.' "

It was the eve of May, and as he approached a lofty
pillar tower, the work of the Danaans of old days, he beheld
a crowd advancing with garlands of flowers and green boughs,
to a building which had not been there when he last went
by in pursuit of the wild deer. "I am not a thorough
stranger," said he ; " the old worship is here ; they are
going to light the Beal fire." Just then a venerable looking
man, Avith long, coarse gown, girt round him by a cord,
approached, and to Oisin' s question he answered that the
people were not about to worship the sun, nor light fires to
his honour. " They are entering the church to sing the
praises of the Lord, the Creator of sun and moon," " And
what of the mid- season of light and heat, and of tlie time
of Samain, when the fruits are gathered 1" " These are
changed to Christian festivals, 0 knight ; but, to our sor-
row, the people still jump through fires, and consult evil
spirits for their future fortunes." "And this building with

10*

148 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAKD.

the cross crowning its sloping tower ? " " The church in
which we offer prayer and praise to the Creator." " And
why place it so near the relic of the old worship 1 " " We
come to change no custom, nor destroy any long-cherished
memory harmless in its nature."

So the son of Fionn traversed the island, and found few^er
swords and spears than in the days of his youth, but sickles,
ploughshares, and scythes had much increased. He stood
on the fatal field of Gavra, and his heart was covered with
desolation as he called on the spirits of the heroes that
slept beneath to reveal their abiding place, and comfort his
saddened spirit.

In the Bay of Binn Edair he found barks entering and pas-
sing out, laden with peaceful products of the soil, or of the
fashioning of man's hands for the purposes of traffic, and
he felt that further research would deepen the gloom of
~ his spirit. A desire to return to his princess and her happy
realm seized on his soul, and he said : " I will forget my
former existence ; I will return my wife's true affection,
and I will be happy. When her loving eyes are bent on
me, when I look on the smiling and happy faces of her
people, who love me for her sake, I will recall my pre-
sent desolation and say to my heart, * Take thy fill of
comfort.' "

He passed the Liffey at the " Bridge of Wattles," and
heard the clang of trowel and hammer in the centre of the
swampy village on its banks, where a building was rising
for the purpose of divine worship ; and as he passed up
Gleann 'a Smolach (Glen of Thrushes) he beheld a crowd
endeavouring to remove a mighty stone from the quarry, to
the rough vehicle on which it was to be conveyed to the
building near the river. The unwieldy mass was too much
for the unskillful men to get it raised on the low machine,
and they painfully heaved and tugged as Oisin looked on for
the result. At last the unsuitable tackle gave way, and
the mighty stone, fast sHpping, would have crushed five of
the artizans, when the knight, stooping, seized the mass,
and flung it heavily on the wheeled platform. Alas ! as
he did so, the girths of the saddle snapped with the violent
strain of his body, down came the rider, away flew the

OISIN IN TIR NA-N-OGE. 1 49

white steed, and a withered, blind, and feehle old man, lay-
helpless on the side of Gleann-'a-Smolach.

The cart with its heavy load was painfully conveyed to
Bar a Clia' (Bail' Atha Cliath, Town of the Ford of
Hurdles), where the stone was to form part of the rising
temple ; and the apostle hearing of the strange event, got
the weakly old hero conveyed to an adjoining house of
religious men, and looked to his every comfort. He ex-
plained to him the principles of Christianity, and urgently
besought him to embrace them ; but his memory was filled
with the exploits and the fame of the passed- away race
of heroes, and pride held the approaches of his heart so
well, that Christian humility could get no entrance. The
saint turned the conversation at times to the subject of his
early life, and then he related the stories of the Chase of
Sliav Guillin, the flight of Diarmuidh and Grainnd, or the
slaughter of Cnoc-an-air, or Gavra; and these recitals were
thenceforth preserved in the memory of the bards and story-
tellers, and afterwards carefully Avritten in the famous old
books of the scribes.

It grieved the noble old warrior when his hearers seemed
to distrust his veracity on the subject of the superiority of
things in his younger days, such as the great size of the
fruits, the leaves, and the animals. The head cook of the
religious house, not calculating on the appetite of the great
militia men of the days of Cormac, sometimes stinted the
survi\ing member of that superhuman body, and the only
revenge he would condescend to take was, to declare that
in the days of the Fianna the ivy leaves were the size of a
warrior's shield, the rowan-tree berries as large as a sheep,
and a lark's leg as bulky as the hind quarter of an ox.
The cook uttered an irreverent laugh, and the old knight
did not condescend to repeat his assertion.

]^ext day, however, he took a trusty guide, and they set
out on their travels with a wolf hound, and nothing is told
of their adventures till they came to the great plain of
Allen, in Kildare. They stopped by an upright Dalian,
and the guide, digging by its side, soon discovered a rusted
spear, a bit of bog-butter, and the great war-bugle of Oisin's
father, the Dord Finn. By the directions of the old cham-

IjO THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

pion he blew a blast on the instrument, but had scarcely
done so when he dropped it in fright, so unearthly and
terrible was the sound. Then said Oisin, " What do you
see towards the north 1" " Oh ! I see a troop of huge birds
as black as night ; they are hastening towards us ; the dog
is tugging at the leash; I am unable to hold him." ''Then
give him liberty." Off bounded the noble hound, and
after a few moments, during which the fleet heavy tramp
of the birds was heard shaking the earth, the giolla shouted,
" Oh ! the brave dog has the largest of the fierce fowl on
the ground, and is throttling it." " Noble hound ! " cried
the blind warrior, " worthy to be the son of Brann, or
Sceoluing ! What now ] " A mid unearthly roar was
heard, and the attendant cried " Oh, chief ! the bLack fowl
is quiet, his companions have fled to the three winds, and
the hound is rushing towards us with eyes on flame, and
bloody jaws wide open. We shall be destroyed." " Kneel
on one knee ; plant the spear firm, and receive the furious
beast on its point." It was done, and the career of the
dog was soon at an end : the fated weapon entering his
breast, transfixed him, and with a wild unearthly howl he
fell forward on the earth, forcing the spear out of the grasp
of the terrified giolla.

Agreeable to his master's directions the attendant hewed
off the thigh of the slain bird, and then restored the spear
and the war horn to their resting place. On their return
they fetched with them a rowan-tree berry from Gleann 'a
Smolach and an ivy leaf from Chapel Izod, and the three
spoils exceeded in size the boast of Oisin to the thrifty
housekeeper.

Afterwards the noble old warrior was treated -wdth more
deference by the household, and a more liberal allowance
of provisions was accorded. His long and unprofitable
discussions with the saint — are they not to be read at full
length in the Transactions of tlie Ossianic Society ? Let us
hope that his conversion, though not recorded in these
faithful annals, was effected, and the apostle thus recom-
pensed for all the time devoted to that meritorious object.

Our Ossianic tales having come to a natural close, those readers of

OISIN IN TIR NA-N-OGE. I^l

ours who have not made a study of the subject are informed that the
genuine Ossianic remains are few in number. In the Book of Lein-
ster (see above) are preserved five short poems attributed to Fionn
Mao Cumhaill, and two ascribed to Oisin. In the Books of Ballymote
and of Lecain is preserved one by Fergus the Eloquent, son of Fionn,
and another by CaeHthe Mac Ronain his cousin. The Gaelic text
of Mapherson's Ossian was pubUshed in 1807, eleven years after his
death and republished in a most expensive style within this year.

Mr. J. F. Campbell has in the fourth volume of his West Highland
Tales handled the Ossianic Controversy with much candour and ability,
and at considerable length. We prefer to present his conviction of
Macpherson's manipulation of the genuine Gaelic legends to which
he had access, and the transformation to which he subjected them,
rather than utter our own opinions, which might be considered as
more or less tinged by prejudice.

Mr. Campbell contends for the existence in the Highlands in the
early part of last century of a wealth of oral Ossianic legends, identi-
cal in substance and nomenclature with the Irish stories, and besides,
a good sprinkling of MSS., but nothing of the length or solemn char-
acter of either of the epics, Finr/al or Temora. These legends were
used, and abused, and distilled by the poet of Badenoch, and the re-
sult was the English Ossian of i860, and the still more provoking
Gaelic one of 1807. Mr. Campbell is confident that Macpherson was
incompetent to put this last named version together, faulty and defec-
tive as he acknowledges it to be, but does not assert that it was the pro-
duction of his cousin of Strathmashie to whom it is attributed by some.

How different has been, Mr. Campbell's own proceedings ; he has at
a great outlay of time, and travel, and labour, collected the Gaelic
fireside lore of Highlands and Isles, and found the shepherds, and
fishermen, and peasants persuaded that the stories were all about Irish
giants, and gnuigachs, and gaiscachs, and ladies, and that the places
where the deeds occurred were all in Ireland. In no one story did he
ever hear the name of Fingal nor of Morven his fabulous kingdom.
Determined Caledonian as Mr. Campbell is, and we like him the better
for being so, he has never in a single instance altered a name, nor
transferred the scene of an Irish tale to Scotland. He lovingly advises
the Irish and Scotch Gael to rejoice in their common stock of legen-
dary lore, and not foolishly quarrel about their respective portions, and
the advice comes from a truthful and judicious spirit.

THE AMADHAN MOPw
The Big Fool was the strongest man in the world, body
and fists. As he and his true love were one day walking
in a lovely valley near Loch Lene, they saw a chief ap-
proaching. He had on a rich mantle, and bore a golden
cup in one hand, and when he came near he hailed them.

152 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

" Fair couple, tell me your name and the name of this val-
ley." " Maev is the name of this young woman, I am
called the Big Amadhan, and the name of the valley I
know not ; I never was here before. If you have liquor in
that cup worthy of a gaisca, let me take a drink." " A
thousand welcomes, but be moderate !" " Oh, to be sure ;"
but the Big Fool never took the goblet from his lips while
a drop remained, for it was sweeter than the sweetest mead.

Just as he let it go from his mouth, his two legs dropped
off from the knees, and down he came on his stumps. Bit-
ter were the tears that Maev of the white shoulders shed
at her husband's mischance. " Is it thus that you show
hospitality to your visitors, man of ill-fortune'?" "The
fault is your own. If you had drunk sparingly, no harm
would have befallen you ! " "By the hand of my gossip,
I won't leave a pair of legs on any one I meet, beginning
with yourself, till I recover them." " Don't touch me if
you are wise. I have only to mutter one word to draw
your strength from your body, and weaken you like the
child of yesterday. Are these your hounds coming down
the glen ? "

A stag was sweeping down the valley, and hounds and
mounted men "were pursuing him. A white dog was fore-
most of the pack, and swift as the deer went, the Big
Amadhan kept within seven paces of him, and seven paces
behind the hero came the dog. Kever was there so long a
valley ; never were matched deer, man, and dog of such fleet
limbs. At last the Big Amadhan thought it better to bring
the chase to an end. So he poised his spear, and making
an accurate and very strong cast, it entered at the beast's
haunch, and came out at his breast. Up came the dog,
and leaped with joy round the gaisca, and Hcked his hands.

It was not long till the master of the hunt came up.
He had a gold hafted sword by his side, and two long
sharp spears in his hand ; a gold brooch held his cloak,
and a gold band went round his birredh. " I thank you,
good fellow," said he, " for killing that deer for me. Will
you help my men to cut it up ?" " I kiUed him for myself
and my wife," said the big Amadhan ; " you shall not taste
a morsel of it." ''Well, at least, allow my dog to come to

THE AMADHAN MOR. 1 53

me." " First tell me your name and title." " I am the
Enchanter of the Black Valley and the owner of the White
Dog, the fleetest hoiinti -within the four seas." " You are
so no more ; the dog is mine." " You are unjust ; you
should be content with the deer."

Maev had hastened after her hushand and was now come
up. She took his left arm within her two, and lovingly
looked up in his face. " Though you have done me wrong,"
said the enchanter, " I wish you joy of your beautiful wife.
"Where is your lios or caisiol, and what is the name of your
tribe ?" " I have neither land nor fort. I live by the
might of my arm, A druid whom I met this morning,
deprived me of my legs, and till I recover them I will
despoil and discomfort every brother druid of his that I
meet." " Well, well ; give me my dog, and come yourself
and wife, and live with me in my dun, where you can
express no wish which shall not be satisfied." " But how
shall I recover my legs ]" " If you please me, even your
legs shall be restored. I will get the Druid of the Gold
Cup into my power, and force him to give them up."
The big hero looked at his wife, she looked at him, and he
agreed to the offer.

So he stopped, and taking the legs of the deer in his
hands, he set it round his neck ; Maev sat on its side, and
so the two men, the woman, and the dog went on, and
nothing is said of their journey till they came to the end of
the valley.

There, on a near hill, was a fort, and every stone, and
defence, and gate of it was of yellow gold.

" What is the name of that dun 1" said the gaisca, " and
who is its chief?"

" That," said the enchanter, " is Du7i an Oir (fort of
gold), and I am its chief, and there you shall be entertained
till you displease me."

So they entered the gates, and the Amadhan laid down
his load at the door, and the druid brought him and his
wife where his owti wife was lying on her soft couch. Said
the lady to Maev, of the silken robe, —

" What is your name, beauteous women, and the name
of him you obey ?"

154 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

" The Big Amadhan is he called, and he has never met
his equal in battle and conflict. I am Maev, and his love
for me is only equalled by mine foriiim."

" But why, 0 fair Maev of the silken robe, does he want
all below the knees V

" The druidic cup of mead it was, 0 lady of Dun an Oir,
my sorrow be on it ! But the longest road has an end,
and the master of the cup will be one day under the foot of
the Big Amadhan. By your hand, lady, he has subdued all
the kings and chiefs of broad Erinn."

So they made three divisions of the night ; the first they
spent at the table, the second in conversation, and the
third was given to rest. Next morning the druid and the
gaisca were walking on the ramparts, and thus spoke the
master of Dun an Oir.

" I go to chase the deer from Dundealagan to Gleann 'a
Smolach and your duty will be to let neither king nor chief
within my gates ; and if by your neglect they should get
in, allow them not to quit till I return. My wife is very
beautiful, and in my absence, when hunting, many a young
prince and tiernach would be well pleased to pay her their
false compliments. This is the only kind of service I shall
ever require at your hands. Ask of me in return anything
you will."

Away went the master of Dun an Oir, and away with
him went his white dog. The lady reclined on her couch,
and the Big Fool lay on the floor. After a while, he felt
such a weight of sleep on his eyes that he could not keep
them open.

" By the hand of your husband, 0 lady," said he, " I fear
I shall be found wanting in my duty. I could not con-
tinue awake even to be made Ard-Eigh at Tara. All in my
power I will perform. Here I lie along at your feet, and
no intruder can approach you without disturbing me. 0,
hard fortune, why did I undertake such duty !"

Alter some time he was aroused by something passing
over his body, and opening his eyes he saw a stranger in a
cloak attempting to kiss the lady. Springing up, and taking
him by the arm, he swung him to the opposite wall.

" Stay there, man of evil design, till the return of the

THE AMADHAN MOR. 1 5^

druidic master. Here I lie at the door to bar your passage."

" It ill beseems a big Amadhan like you to lay hands on
a chief. Come from your post I command."

" Yes, at the return of the master."

" I took one of your legs from the druid of the gold
cup. I will give it you if you leave the pass free."

Maev, who was listening outside, came in and said,

"Agree to what the chief asks."

" Bring my leg, and let me see how it fits."

He produced it, and it was found full of life.

" Xow I am free ; leave the door."

" iSo, by your hand ; I am worse now with one short
and one long leg than I was."

The magic chief fastened on the other.

"Now I demand my reward. Otherwise you shall be sung
by every bard in wide Erinn, as the ungrateful Amadhan."

" I value not their lying songs a dry rush. You shall
not quit this grianan of the golden castle till the return of
its chief. I could not prevent your entrance, I will cer-
tainly prevent your departure."

The lady of the fort and the wife of the Amadhan raised
their voices against this resolution, but the huge gaisca was
deaf to their words. At last the man in the cloak flung it
off, and there stood the druid of the White Dog and of
Dun an Oir. He seized the Amadhan in his arms, and
kissed him on both cheeks, and tears began to fall from
the eyes of Maev.

" Thou faithful man " said the druid, " it was I who
gave thee the enchanted drink, and did all the rest to have
thee for a dweller in my fort. Now when I choose I can
go to chase the wolves and deer from Loch Lene to the sea
of Moyle. When I am fatigued and remain at home to rest,
you may go in search of adventures. I will be as faithful
a guardian to thy wife as you were of mine. While all are
in the dun together, we shall be as happy as friendship,
and love, and the wine and mead cup, and the songs of the
travelling bards can make us."

This is properly a household tale of all countries : in its recital
speaker and audience equally rejoiced at the triumph of simplicity and
fidelity even when combined with weak intellect.

[ 15^

THE ADVENTUEES OF CONALL GULBAN.

KiALL of the Nine Hostages was a great sailor and carrier
of captives from Britain, and Gaul, and Spain, and Italj'',
and when he was in this last country, he married the sister
of the king. Her name was Raima (agreeable), and she
bore her husband eight sons : Laere, Eane, Maine, Eogan,
(Owen), two Conalls, and two Cairbres. Conall was sent to
be educated to the druid of Binn Edair (Howth), and on a
day of the days he brought him to a big grey stone on the
side of the liill that looks to Bal'-a-clia. " Put wind under
that stone, a vie " (my son), said he, and he did raise it from
the ground, but it was with hardship. "Another twelve-
month will do it," said he, and they still staid together.
That day twelvemonth he took up the stone and put it on
liis shoulder ; he walked up the hill with it, and down the
hill with it, and laid it again in its place. " You will do
now," said he, " for your arms : let us try your legs. Pull
up that young oak and strike me with it before I get to the
hill top." He did so, and fast as the druid ran, faster ran
Conall, and I would not like to get the blows he received
on his back. " Til go home with you to-morrow, I can do
no more for you."

After this, Conall Gulban staid a year at I^aas, the court
of the King of Leinster, and he fell in love with Dichalla
(Diochallach, diligent), the young princess, and she fell in
love with him. But when he returned to Tara to request
leave of his father to propose for her, there were ambassa-
dors just arrived from Italy to ask the King of Ireland for
aid against the King of Greece, who was invading his ter-
ritories. Half the fighting men in all Ireland were collected,
and the King of Leinster brought his forces, and the Ard
Eigh said to his son, " I must leave one of my sons to com-
mand the troops that remain, and to protect the women
and the very old men and very young people. You are my
eldest, and the duty falls on you." And said the King
of Leinster, " You wish my daughter for a -wife, and you
shall have her but not till we return from Italy. The
Fathach Dorcha (Black Giant) of Lochlann also wishes her
for wife, and it 's only when she is under my protection or

THE ADVENTURES OF CONALL GULBAN. 157

while she obeys me that I can preserve her from falling
into his power. AVhen her first child is born she is safe.
She remains at Naas nnder the guardianship of fifty of the
best men of Leinster till I return. You remain on Binn
Edair to watch the coast. If she visits you, or you her,
the Black Giant will get her in his power.''

The Kings and half the heroes of Erinn sailed to Italy ;
Conall Gulban sorrowfully watched the sea from the " Hill
of Oaks ;" Dichalla sorrowfully used her needle in her gri-
anan in the rath at Xaas. Her father had laid geasa on
her not to stir from her palace till his return, but he unfor-
tunately did not explain her danger. One day as Conall
was sorrowfully gazing over the waters from the highest
tulach of the hill, he heard the loud blasts of war bugles to
the south, and soon fifty blue-bladed lances were seen ad-
vancing through the trees. But his joy was only equal to
his terror when he was lifting his betrothed down from her
litter, and many loving words were not said, when the black
barque of the Fathach Dorcha was seen rushing through
the waves, fleeter than the salmon in the water, or the
swallow in the air. AYhile you could number ten was all
the time he required till coming in a sighe gaoithe, he
stood on the grass five paces off. The poised spear of
Conall and the fifty blue lances were about to make his
body a bloody sieve, but he waved his druidic rod, and the
heroes and their arms were lying powerless on the smooth
turf.

Dichalla knelt by the side of Conall, and screamed and
shrieked, beseeching him to speak to her. " He will be full
of life and strength," said the giant, ** if you only cut off his
little finger, and take a piece of skin off his forehead the
size of thy own palm, and dash this stone down between
his mouth and nose." " I prefer death," was her answer.
" "Well, come with me willing or unwilling, but I prefer a
wife to a slave. A full year you may remain in your mai-
denhood. If then you willingly become my wife, well.
If not" — he stopped suddenly in his speech, but after a
short space spoke again — " fear nothing for the lives of the
heroes. In an hour they shall be as they were when their
lances were levelled at me." She took off Conall's ring,

158 THE BARDIC STORIES OP IRELAKD.

replaced it with her own, cut some Oghuim characters on
his lance, and thus obliged by a resistless force she was soon
speeding over the waters to Lochlann.

Sad and wretched was Conall when he awoke, but when
he saw Dichalla's ring on his finger, and read her directions
on his spear-shaft, vigour and eagerness returned. He took
ship, was within a week in Lochlann, and the next evening
before the dun of the Fatha Dorcha. He struck the door
■with the heavy hand wood. A surly face appeared through
the central grate, and to him Conall said, " Tell the Fathach
that Conall, son of Niall, King of Erinn, demands that his
betrothed, the fair Dichalla, be given up to him ; otherwise
battle and conflict on the plain." The attendant went and
returned. " The fair Dichalla will not be surrendered to
the King of Erinn's son. Food, rest, and welcome are his
to-night in the bruighean outside the moat, and to-morrow
morning a champion shall try his strength and skill.

Conall got food, and drink, and a soft bed, and on the
morning appeared with his arms and armour on the plain.
He had not long to wait when a young robust warrior
issued from the door, gave him the salute of warriors, and
till the decline of the sun the dread game of sword, lance,
and shield were played. Then was the foeman of Conall
beaten behind his shield, and with the next blow laid along
on the hard-trodden plain. " What plea have you to make
for life?" said Conall. "I care not for life," said the youth.
" My father, the Fathach Dorcha, refuses me the hand of
the woman I love, and says I must wed a young sorceress,
his friend. I prefer death to a life with her." " If I pro-
cure your union with your loved one will you be faithful
curadh to me all the days of your life ? " "I swear to be
so by sun, wind, water, and fire." Conall then aided the
helpless knight to rise, and they took food and sleep together,
and the next morning he struck the battle signal again. He
demanded the captive lady once more, but in her stead a tall,
strong, but meagre champion presented himself for the strife
of heroes. This day's fight was fiercer than that of yesterday \
but an hour later than when the young prince of Lochlann
fell under his shield, Conall's foot was on the breast of his
foe.

THE ADVENTURES OF CONALL GULBAN. 1 59

" Slay him not," said the prince. " He has long sued
for the hand of my sister Ciimra, but my father makes re-
fusal He is called Garna Scathla. He is true curadh to
me, and will be no less true to thee." The fallen knight
was raised, and led into the bruighean, and the three friends
made three equal divisions of the night. In the first they
refreshed themselves with food and drink ; in the second
they entertained themselves with discourse and the chess-
table ; during the third they slept.

The third battle blow brought out the dark big man,
and the fights of the former days were but as the sports of
children compared to the strife of this day.

An hour before sunset their broken helms had fallen in
pieces from their heads, the shields from their arms, and
nought but the hafts of their swords remained in their
hands. They seized on each other, body and shoulder, they
twisted, they strained, they bent each other back. At last
the dark sorcerer by a mighty heave would have flung
Conall to the ground, but at the moment his own feet were
swept from under him, and the earth shook with the weighty
mass which came down on it like a tower.

" If I spare thy life," said the prince of Erinn, " wilt thou
restore my betrothed even as you found her at Binn Edair,
and give these my sworn curadhs the brides beloved by
them'?" "I will do that," said the defeated man, "and do you
stiU greater service." So he was raised, and the four entered
the dun, and short was the time which passed till Dichalla
was pressed to the heart of Conall, and his sworn brothers
blessed with the presence of their loving brides.

A feast was made, and in the second division of the night
thus spoke the Fathach Dorcha : — " The Kings of Erinn
and Leinster are at this moment prisoners in the daingean
of the King of Greece. All the Grecian soldiers slain in
the day are new men on the morning following. We has-
ten to the aid of Erinn and Italy to-morrow. I renouiKje
all evil magic, but I will avail myself of my full knowledge
to aid my friends."

Next day the four warriors and five hundred fighting
men were ploughing the sea to Italy in a fleet of twenty
barques. They landed and brought great hope to the men

l6o THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

of Erinn and Italy, and in the battle which followed they
slaughtered whole battalions of the Greeks. When the
darkness of night came, the Fathach quitted his tent, and
silently proceeded through the field of battle. It was not
long till he perceived an aged sorceress examining the slain
by means of a chloive solais (Sword of Light) and pourmg
some drops of a cordial into the mouth of every Greek sol-
dier whom she found dead or dying. These immediately
arose, and hurried silently to their camp, but this night
there were but few restored to life. The Fathach seizing
on the glaive, divided the witch in two, seized the flask and
•spent the night restoring the dead of Erinn and Italy.
Kext day a living Greek was not to be seen. A hasty re-
treat was made before dawn, and a diligent search was made
through the morning for the dead and dying persons. The
Kings of Erinn and of Leinster were discovered, and res-
tored to perfect health, and a week was spent in joy by all.
Then the forces of Erinn and Lochlann returned home.
Three happy marriages followed, and great joy prevailed at
the Courts of Lochlann, of Leinster, and of Tara.

Niall Niallach (Nial of the Nine Hostages), a.d. 375, 398, was
as inucli devoted to the capture of foreign youths and maidens to be
reduced to the condition of slavery, as any Turkish or Persian official
to the acquisition of backsheesh. He visited Gaul and Britain more
than once with this selfish object, and on one occasion secured St.
Patrick then a mere youth. From his two great sons, Conall and
Eogan, are descended the illustrious Clann Conaill (O'DonneUs), and
Clann Eogain (O'Neills) of Donegal and Tyrone, who have left last-
ing marks of their heroism and fidelity in the history of their country.
J. F. Campbell found more detailed legends concerning Conall Gulban
in the Western Highlands and Isles than could probably now be dis-
covered in any part of Ireland.

DEATH OF NIALL, AND A HOUSEHOLD MYSTERY.

Achy, the young king of Leinster, being ambitious of be-
coming Ard-Eigh, once removed to Tara while Niall was on
some piratical expedition, and abode there nine days and
nine nights. At the end of that time he was visited by a

DEATH OF NIALL AND A HOUSEHOLD MTSTERT. l6l

druid in great repute, and impressed Avith the impiety and
lawlessness of which he had been guilty — he who even yet
had not received the dignity of knighthood to occupy the
regal seat of the monarch of Ireland ! Being convinced of
his guilt, he at once returned home, but unfortunately
stopped one night at the house of a druid whose son was
cursed with a foul tongue. This youth bestowed such ill
language on the prince that, forgettmg for the moment the
reverence due to the house of his entertainer, he slew him
on the spot.

The bereaved father carried his complaint to Tara on the
return of Xiall, and excited him to such wrath for the double
offence that he invaded Achy's province, and was desolating
it with fire and sword, till, at the druid's suggestion, he
offered to stop proceedings if Achy were given up. The
prince, pitying the desolation of his people, voluntarily sur-
rendered himself, and was chained to a large stone which
is still to be seen between Kilbride and Tullow. Thither
came the druid conducting nine spearmen, but Achy had
scarcely got the first puncture from a lance when, roused to
fury, he burst the fastenings of his chain, flew on his exe-
cutioners, wrested a sword from one of them, and within a
few seconds some of them were helpless on the ground, and
others in swift flight. He made his way to the coast, and
finding a vessel, he took his passage in it to Alba, and got
refuge at the court of Gavran, Chief of the Irish Dalriads,

During his abode there, his wife, Fselan, and the wife of
Gavran, whose name was Ingeanach, were brought to bed
at the same hour and in the same chamber. The Leinster
lady was delivered of male twins, and the Alban lady of a
daughter. All her children already born were girls, and as
her husband anxiously longed for a son, she eagerly begged
her fellow sufierer to make an exchange. The Irish lady
complied, and one of her twins was joyfully welcomed by
the Dalriad chief as his son and heir. He gave him the
name Eogan ; his twin brother was called Eandubh (The
Handsome Dark One).

When the twins had attained the age of striplings, iSTiall
took it into his head to make an incursion into Gaul for
booty. He summoned Gavran to be of the party, and along

l62 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

with Gavran went his guest, the ex-king of Leinster. In
vain Gavran endeavoured to obtain forgiveness for his
protege from the Ard-Righ ; he would not admit him into
his presence. Eesentment with Achy exceeded even his
great courage. It got so completely the upper hand of all
other considerations, that as he was taking a lonely walk
"by the Loire, and caught sight of Niall on the opposite
hank, he slew him with a cast of his spear.

Returning to Leinster, he was restored to his former
power, and ruled pretty much as other provincial kings.
In time Eogan succeeded his supposed father in Alba, and
Randubh sat on the Leinster throne. Eogan, taking it into
his head that his descent from Cairbre Eiadha, grandson of
Conn Cead Cathach, and one of the earlier Irish settlers in
Argyle, entitled him to the throne of Ireland, gathered a
horde of Dalriads, Picts, Loegrians, and Cymry, and de-
scended on the coast of Leinster. He required submission
and tribute from Eandubh, unless he wished to see his ter-
ritory given up to fire and sword, and the young prince,
feeling his inferiority in forces, was sadly troubled ; but his
mother gave him comfort. " Give no answer," said she,
" till I pay this invader a visit." She proceeded with but
few attendants to his camp, obtained an interview, and
boldly demanded by what right he had come in that hostile
fashion on a friendly people who had given him no provo-
cation. The king was incensed by her bold language and
commanding demeanour, and answered, " I do not feel
obliged to give to every cailleach a reason for my conduct,"
" I am no more a cailleach than your mother," said she.
" Dare you put yourself on a line with my mother V "I
do, for I happen to be your mother in person, and you are
about oppressing your twin-brother and his subjects," and
to her shocked but still incredulous son she revealed the
circumstances of his birth and the change of infants.

When he had taken some little time to cool down, he
ordered all hostile proceedings to be suspended, and de-
spatched to his mother in Alba a request that she should
come to him without delay. On her arrival he questioned
her in presence of the dowager queen of Leinster, and was
convinced of being the son of this lady, and twin-brother

THE FATE OF BREACAN. 1 63

of Eandiibh. Further hostilities were not to be thought of.
Strict alliance was entered into, and the secret of Eogan's
parentage religiously kept, for fear of his rule over the
Argyll Scotts being disputed.

THE FATE OF BEEACAN.

Breacan, though grandson of the powerful monarch, Niall
of the I^ine Hostages, did not disdain the profession of
trading merchant. He owned fifty currachs (skin-covered,
boats), and performed voyages innumerable between Erinn
and Alba, but at last he and his currachs were lost in a
whirlpool, which broke into fury in the sea of Moyle.
There was no certainty of the misfortune on either side of
that channel for many years, till it was discovered in this
wise. The blind poet Lucha, paying a visit to Bennchuir
(Bangor), in Down, his attendants, during an hour of relax-
ation, strayed down to the strand, and in their promenade
came on the bleached skull of a small dog. Having no
graver concern on their hands at the time, they brought
the poor relic to the poet, and rec[uested him to reveal to
them to whom it had belonged when alive. " Lay the poet's
wand on the skull," said he, and then he pronounced some
mystical words belonging to the spell called teinm laegha^
applying his forehead to the other end of the rod. In a
few seconds he spoke aloud —

" The tempestuous waters, the waters of the Vortex,
Destroyed Breacau ; this is the skull of Breacan's lap-dog ;
And but little of greatness here remains,
For Breacan and his people were drowned in the Vortex,"

?>., the coire Breacain (Breacan's vortex), which name
marked the place for ages afterwards.

This tradition is found in a note on the Senchus Mor, or body of
Brehon Laws, vol. ii. It is there referred to as furnishing an illustra
tion of a species of pagan divination interdicted by St. Patrick.

164 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

Besides those pious men who undertook, through good motives, to
write the lives of their holy predecessors, there were others belonging
to the class of bards and story tellers, who, treating the level portions
of the narrative with neglect, seized on every thing bordering on the
supernatural, and used it to amaze their hearers, as they would use
magical incidents in their ordinary stock pieces. The meek servant
of God often became in the hands of the Scealluidhe as stem and
vengeful as if he was an unbaptized Corsican. Hence so many bi-
zarre circumstances have become incorporated with the traditional bi-
ographies of holy labourers in God's vineyard. Sometimes we come
at veins of genuine poetry and romance varying the mingled tissues
of truth and fiction. The accounts tampered with by bard or story-
tellers are more congenial to a work such as ours than a dry authentic
narrative given by Eev. Alban Butler after a careful examination and
comparison of his authorities. Among the scanty stock here quoted,
preference must be given to matters relating to St. Patrick. A more
ample collection will be found in Legendary Fictions of the Irish Celts.

HOW IT FARED WITH THE CHIEF OF CASTLE KNOC.

MuRiNUS, cliief of Cnuca, near Dublin, was among the
number of those who neglected to turn the visit of St. Pa-
trick to good account. When he was informed of the ap-
proach of the saint to his rath, he told one of his giollas to
say that he was out hunting. " I shall call again," was
the answer modestly delivered. The next day on making
his appearance, the same unworthy follower said his master
w^as at dinner, and would not be disturbed. The third day
the visitor took care to avoid the dinner hour. " Murinus,"
said the same attendant, " has lain down to rest and desires
to be excused.'^ " Go to Murinus," said the patient man of
God, " and say to him, if he receives me not at this hour, he
shall never see me here or hereafter." The giolla went in,
and soon re-appeared with the assurance that Murinus
would not interrupt his needful repose for any person or
any business. Patrick went sorrowfully away, and the
giolla on returning to his master's apartment, found only
his master's lifeless body.

[ i65 ]

ST. PATRICK'S FIRST VISIT TO DUBLIN.

The first glimpse the saint had of the " Town of the Hurdle-
Ford" was from the high ground of Finglas. He stopped
at that place for some minutes, and prayed for blessings on
the future Irish capital. A poor woman afforded him a
lodging while he remained in the town, and he more than
once heard her complain of the difficulty of procuring good
water. She dwelt on the edge of the salt marsh which ex-
tended at that time to the present site of College-green,
and was obliged to go a long way to procure fresh water.
The saint pitying the charitable creature, struck the ground
near her hut with his staff, and a spring gushed forth,
known to the close of last century as St. Patrick's \Yell.
If a fervent archaeologist wishes to gaze on and taste its
waters he has only to scale the rails of the College Park,
opposite Dawson-street, and fall to with pick and shovel
just at that point.

Leife, daughter of the petty king of the district, was
found drowned in the river, and the disconsolate father
besought the saint's prayers for her restoration to life, pro-
mising in that case to embrace Christianity and induce all
his people to follow his example. Her life was granted to
the prayers of our saint, and the king kept his word. The
river was hence-forward called Abhan Leife (Leife's Eiver).

HOW ARMAGH CATHEDRAL WAS BEGUN.
A CHIEF named Daird who owned Drumsaileach (Hill of
Sallows), now Armagh, bestowed a small field on the saint ;
but Daire's covetous steward put one of his master's horses
to graze on it. Next morning the animal was found dead,
and Daire being angered against the saint by the wicked
steward, gave orders to have his people turned out of the
field, and the huts built for the workmen to be levelled.
Just as the messengers were leaving the fort, Daire was
seized with violent pains, and what they were next directed
to do was to beseech the saint to come and relieve him.
This was done, and the saint and dependents were hence-

1 66 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

forward left undisturbed. Moreover, several strong men
arrived in the field next morning bearing a large cauldron,
a very acceptable present to Patrick, for he had many men
employed in building chapels and hospitals, and hundreds
were flocking to him to be baptized or cured, and food was
to be cooked for all these. " What did he say when you
presented the cauldron 1 " inquired Daire of his men on
their return. " IS'othing but Do Gratias Daire " (I thank
Daire) was the answer. " Ungrateful man !" said the of-
fended chief ; " Go and bring it away from him." They
did so, and returned with the huge pot. " Well, what did
he choose to say when he saw you shouldering the caul-
dron ? " '"Do Gratias Daire,' the very words he said before."
"And he did not seem offended]" " Not a whit." " He
must be a true son of Heaven. Go, and request him to
come up — but no. It is more fitting that I should wait on
him."

Daire's business this time was to invite the saint to select
a suitable piece of ground for his intended cathedral. Ac-
companied by many persons they %vent over different places
in the neighbourhood of the fortress, the saint seeming to
search for some mark or other. At last as they w^ere pas-
sing a thicket, up started a doe from her lair, where she
had just been suckling her fawn. Some rushed forward to
seize them, others were about launching their spears, but
both sprung towards the saint, and stood fearlessly by his
side. He took up the young thing in his arms, and fol-
lowed by its dam and the assembled company, he traced
the boundary of the future cathedral. The name of the
hill was thenceforward changed to Ardmacha (High Field).

DEATH OF MILCHO.
One of St. Patrick's most anxious wishes on his arrival in
the north of Ireland, was the conversion of his former
master IMilcho from paganism and its attendant vices. Mil-
cho had a dream while his benefactor was approaching, and
in it saw his two little daughters consumed by flames that

DEATH OF MILCHO. 1 6/

issued out of the mouth of his former slave. As he awoke
he was told by the watchman that a mau of venerable looks
in a strange dress was approaching. Overcome by contempt
and hatred for his ancient swineherd, and fear that he might
be converted if he came to speech with him, as he had
already heard of his persuasive powers, he sent every living
soul out of the wooden house, collected dry brushwood, set
it on fire, flung himself into the kindled heap, and miserably
perished. Patrick's grief was extreme, when he caught
sight of the burning dwelling. He protected and instructed
the little orphans, and in time they became saints, thus
fulfilling in figure their unhappy father's dream.

THE THIEVISH GLUTTON JUDGED OUT OF
HIS OWN MOUTH.
In St. Patrick's weary journeys (say a. d. 432-460) he
found a faithful and useful assistant in a stout he-goat
which would carry a wallet and its contents without the
slightest murmur or complaint. While the saint was
arduously employed one day at his sacred labours, a triple-
dyed rascal stole the poor animal, killed him, and ate a
piece of his flesh with the least possible delay. On being
missed, there were hundreds of men, w^omen, and children,
immediately on the quest, and the thief " was taken in the
manner." Being brought before the chief brehon he stoutly
denied his guilt three several times, but just as the last
denial was trembling on his tongue, the bleating of a goat
was heard proceeding from his stomach, and from his mouth
issued the long and strong white beard which had belonged
to the poor murdered animal. Go where he would, the
bleating and the beard attended him to his dying day.
The brehon adjudged him no additional punishment.

THE PRINCESSES AT THE WELL.
The saint and his beloved disciple, Benignus, in their

1 68 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

journey through Conacht, stopped one sunshiny morning
at a spring well, from which the two princesses from the
neighbouring royal lios were accustomed to bring home
water in pitchers balanced on their shoulders or heads. On
this morning they paused at a distance while the holy men
were reciting and singing the psalms. The sounds and the
music filled their innocent minds with rapture, and when
the service was at an end they modestly approached, and
said, "Tell us, 0 fathers, what gods you have been wor-
shipping. Is it bright Beal or the beautiful moon, or the
gods of the hills, the forests, the lakes, or the streams ]"
" None of these have we been worshipping, my daughters,
for there is no Divinity but One, and he made the sun,
the moon, the hills, the forests, and the waters, for the use
of man, whom he created last of all." Their minds being
already disposed to receive the truth, they were instructed
and baptised on the same morning, and their household
came over to the faith with them.

Soon after, they became sick unto death, and the holy man
being sent for, came and comforted them. They wished
not for longer sojourn on earth ; they longed for the light
and the enjoyment of the Saviour in His kingdom. Their
faithful but still unconverted druid preceptors were sunk
in affliction for losing them, but they spoke words of con-
solation to them. " You are yet wandering in the shades
of error, but if we call you to us when we are in the bosom
of our Lord, will you not hearken 1 '' " Oh, we will — we
will !" The beauty of the dying ladies had faded, though
not disappeared, in illness, but when the long sleep fell on
them, an angelic beauty spread again over the lately sunken
features, and the sorrowing druids, gazing on this cheering
sight, fell on their knees, and within their hearts they
heard the sweet voices of their pupils calling to them from
Paradise to embrace the faith which would one day reunite
them again. " Our happiness," said the voices, " is such
as we cannot declare, nor mortal mind conceive. Hasten
to enter into it." Before the holy missionary left the palace
he received both into the fold of Christ.

[ 1^9 ]

SAINT BRIGID'S CHAEITY.
This lady of eminent sancity, one of the saintly Triad of
Erinn (close of fifth century), was daughter of the learned
druid, Duthach, who was converted by St. Patrick on his
first visit to Teamar, and who afterwards assisted in com-
piling the Senchus Mhor or great Body of Laws. An
important druidic function was the preservation of a fire
that should never be allowed to burn out. The early mis-
sionaries never interfered with customs harmless in them-
selves. In some cases they merely changed the direction
of devotional acts from the rural deities of forest, hill,
or lake to some saint. So it is said that St. Brigid and her
nuns kept up at their nunnery in Kildare (Church of the
Oak) a perpetual flame burning before the Eucharist. One
of St. Brigid's virtues was unbounded charity. She some-
times parted with the church-plate to reheve the poor, and
when the King of Leinster expostulated with her for selling
a magnificent sword which he had presented to her father,
she answered, that she not only had sold the sword, but if
she thought it was not displeasing to God she would sell
him (the king) and her father into the bargain, to feed the
hungry and clothe the naked !

THE BLIND NUN.

Among our saint's sisterhood was a meek devout creature
named Daria, who had been blind from her birth. She
had often heard conversations partly incomprehensible to
her, and which no efforts of the sjDeaker could render
intelligible. So she said to her abbess one evening, "Dear
mother, I am curious to obtain if only for a moment, that
gift of sight I hear spoken of, in order that I may have a
better idea of God's Avork.^' The saint obtained -at once
the gift of sight for her companion, and during the few
mmutes that followed there was displayed to her percep-
tion, not only the scene before her, but the general economy
of the earth by land and sea, and the appearance presented

I •JO THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

by the different relations of sun, moon, and earth, to each
other at different seasons. Ha^dng drunk all this in by
her new sense, she said, " jS^ow, dear mother, let me be
blind for evermore. What I have seen would distract me
too much; the less we are with the world, the more we are
with God." So she voluntarily continued bhnd till her
dying day.

THE AMHRA OF COLUM CILLE.

There were certain hymns of which the praises of this or
that saint formed a portion. These were called " Ainhra,"
and their recital was to be attended by the happiest results
if the reciter was at the time in a fitting state. One of the
most noted of the Amhra was composed on the following
occasion.

The bards had become so tyrannical and exacting in the
sixth century that the kings of Ireland in council assem-
bled, were for extinguishing the order altogether. St.
Colum Cille, however, who was sensible of the good as
well as the evil inherent in the institution, exerted himself
so vigorously in their favour (having crossed the seas from
lona expressly for the purpose), that the royal displeasure
was satisfied for the time with thinning their numbers and
setting stringent bounds to their claims. The chief of the
bards then assembled at Tara was Dalian Forgall (Blind
Forgall). Inspired by gratitude for the deliverance of his
order from the threatened ruin, he burst into a spontaneous
tribute of praise to the (erewhile) hot-tempered and always
patriotic saint. So elocjuent, and poetic, and flattering
was the improvised eulogy, that the humble saint, finding
himself invaded by self-complacency, ordered the bard to
suspend his Amhra on the moment.

On the death of the saint the blind bard, feeling no
further scruple, completed his hymn, which issuing from a
spirit intensely devout, charmed all hearts and obtained for
its composer the gift of sight ! The belief became general,
that whoever committed it to memory and piously repeated

THE AMHRA OF COLUM CILLE. 1 7 I

it, would be blessed with a bappy death. We now quote
Colgan.

" With time the devotion of the faithful towards the
Amhra having augmented, the ill-instructed began to mis-
take the true meaning of the promise made to Forgall, and
to imagine that the greatest reprobates, without either
conversion or repentance, had nothing to do but chant the
Amhra of Colum Cille every day in order to secure sal-
vation. So a miracle took place, which while it strength-
ened the confidence of the faithful in the hymn, showed in
what manner we should understand the privileges conferred
by God on his saints.

" A certain man given up to vice, but yet desirous to
save his soul, took into his head to learn the famous Amhra.
He succeeded in getting half of it by heart, but could not
with all his efforts retain the rest. While he vigorously
strove at his task in order to be saved, he never once
thought of conversion. At last he betook himself to the
tomb of St. Colum Cille, fasted, watched, and passed a
whole night in making wonderful efforts of memory ; and
lo ! next morning he had full possession of the second part,
and sung it with joyful energy. All in vain — the first part
had completely escaped his recollection."

THE LEGEND OF ST. EFFLAMM.

Efflamm son of one Irish king, and Enora daughter of
another, were importuned by their relatives to select part-
ners for life among their acquaintance. Each felt a voca-
tion for a life of religious celibacy, but being sadly pressed,
selected each other from motives of esteem. However,
after the marriage ceremony was performed, and while the
guests were enjoying the social festival, night came, and
every one began to ask of his neighbour where the bride-
groom was amusing himself. They first asked, and then
they searched, but poor Enora found herself that night, and
for some succeeding ones, a widowed bride. Efflamm had
found the idea of a worldly married life so insupportable

172 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

even with the saintly Enora, that taking the road, he used
his time so well, that he found himself very soon at the sea
shore. There was no conveyance at hand but an old box-
shaped boat, half filled with water. Nothing dismayed, he
stepped into it and was borne to the coast of Lanyonn
in Brittany. On his landing, he found King Arthur at
deadly strife with a dragon who had almost depopulated
the country. At the moment the champion was ready to
drop through thirst and fatigue, but the saint touching a
rock with his w^and, there gushed forth a spring which re-
freshing the king and rencAving his strength, he slew the
monster. A splendid position was offered to the saint at
Arthur's Court, but he preferred remaining at Lanyonn in
a hermitage, and all the time that — after his religious exer-
cises— remained at his disposal, he devoted to the service of
the surrounding people. Enora at first wept and sorrowed,
then resigned herself to what had been ordained. One
night she had a vision of angels bearing her across the seas,
and when her eyes opened she found herself on an unknown
coast and lying before a hermitage fashioned in the hollow
of a rock. Knocking gently at the door, it was opened, and
her hand clasped by that of her husband. He was soon
busily employed in fitting up a rude dwelling for her in the
cavern of a neighbouring rock, and there united in devout
affection but living apart, the rest of their pious and active
lives were spent. Men and women visiting the two cells
on a certain morning when the saints were advanced in
years, found both dead, and their countenances lighted with
an expression of unspeakable happiness. Efflamm and
Enora are the Patron Saints of that part of Brittany, The
Bretons to this day regard Ireland with gratitude and re-
spect for the many holy men whom it sent to them in for-
mer times.

LEGEND OF THE CATHACH.

St. Columba, of the royal race of Niall of the Hostages
(a.d. 519-596), being on a visit to St. Einnan, of Ulster,

LEGEND OF THE CATHACH. 1 J^

borrowed bis Book of tbe Psalms, and made a careful copy
of it at extra-official hours. Tbe owner of tbe book was
apprized of what was doing, but made no sign till tbe last
letter was formed. He tben sent a message to the zealous
scribe, with a demand for his bandy-work, it being a copy
made without leave asked or obtained. It may be well
supposed that such a request would not be readily complied
with. St Colum would not resign his hardly-earned prize,
and appealed to Diarmuidh, King of Ireland. He, sitting
on his royal seat, taking tbe book in hand, and looking on
the two claimants, pronounced this decision, which passed
afterwards into a proverb : — " Le gach hoin a hoinin — ' To
every cow (belongetb) her little cow' (calf). To every book
belongetb its copy. Your copy, 0 Colum Cille, belongetb
to Finnan/'

"That is an unjust decision, 0 Diarmuidh," said the
aggrieved saint.

At this time, the son of the King of Conacht, an hostage
at the court, being engaged in a hurling match with the
king's steward, and a dispute arising, he killed him with a
blow of his comaun. This offence, occurring within the royal
precincts, could not be condoned by any eric. Tbe youth
was forced from the arms of Colum Cille, and executed.
Diarmuidh, dreading the resentment of the saint for this
new offence, had him narrowly watched, but he miracu-
lously escaped the vigilance of his guards, and was next
found among bis own Sliochd in Donegal.

On hearing tbe affronts offered him, the Cinel Conaill
(O'Donnels) and the Cinel Eogbain (the O'Neils) united
their forces, and marched to join those of the Conacht
monarch. Achy, at Cuil Dreimne, near Sligo. There the
allies met tbe troops of tbe Ard-Righ, routed them with
great slaughter, and drove them back in evil plight to
Teamur.

After some time tbe saint and monarch were reconciled,
but tbe latter felt the sacrifice of life at Cuil Dreimne, and
all the consequences of his resentment, press heavily on his
conscience. Going to confession to St. Molais, in Devenish
Island in Loch Erne, he was enjoined, by way of penance,
to quit Erinn, and never look on its soil or herbage again.

I 74 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

He set sail for Alba, with several companions, landed at
lona, built the monastery in whose cemetery repose the
ashes of many Pictish, Scottish, and Scandinavian kings,
and established Christianity among the Pictish race. Being
at a later day requested to assist at a council in Tara held
to consider the toleration or suppression of the insolent
Bardic body, he complied, but kept a cloth over his eyes
from the moment he left liis beloved Hy till he again
touched its strand.

There is another legendary instance of St. Columba's
great regard for books. Hearing of a considerable number
of those treasured articles in the possession of a certain
ecclesiastic, he paid him a visit, but the host not relishing
the idea of the saintly Helluo Librorum let loose among his
vellum- treasures, did not indulge him with so much as a
sight of a clasp or cover. The visitor was so incensed, that
he wished the miserly master might not have the comfort
of reading a line in one of his books, usque ad articulum
mortis, and if the bard who recorded the fact told no lie,
the wish was accomplished. "We have forgotten the parti-
culars of this edifying legend, but, as our peasants say,
" There was more lost at Aughrim."

The bards and story-tellers were in bad odour with zealous church-
men on account of their generally licentious and irreligious lives.
These worthies took vengeance after a way of their own when they
found opportunities of introducing saints into their stories, by repre-
senting them subject to revengeful and other unamiable feelings. The
Norman French Trouveres gave their ghostly counsellors still harder
usage in the Fabliaux.

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN.

Towards the end of the fifth century the three isles of Arran
were held by a chief named Corbanus, who rendered fealty
for them to ^ngus, king of Munster. Enda, brother of
this king, wished to devote his life to God's service in pray-
ing and labouring with his hands. He induced many other
well-disposed men to join him ; and at his request his

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN. I 75

brother gave to himself and his little community possession
of Arranniore, allowing Corbaniis other and more valuable
possessions. This chief being a heathen did not look on
the new settlers with much favour. He stood on the shore
of Ireland as Enda and his people were about steering in
their corrachs for their new possessions, and cried out in
derision, " Hol}^ man, here are several vessels of grain which
I intended to bestow on you. They will be of great use in
sowing your barren territory, but your boats are too slight,
and too well filled to receive them ; perhaps the gods whom
you worship will convey them across without giving you
any trouble." The saint cast a look of sorrow and reproach
on the chief, and then betook himself to prayer. Corba-
nus's triumph was but short : he saw the vessels rise from
the earth and shoot rapidly in an upward sloping direction
over the boats and over the heads of the monks who occu-
pied them, and so on directly to the platform above the land-
ing-place of Arranmore. It need scarcely be told that
St. Enda and his monks chanted hymns of gratitude on
their landing ; but the conversion or non-conversion of
Corbanus has been left in doubt by the old chroniclers.

And now our labourers in the holy vineyard diligently
commenced the good work ; churches and monasteries soon
arose under their hands ; and then whoever w^as not en-
gaged in repeating the Holy Office, or singing divine hymns,
was labouring at the cultivation of the land, or slowly and
carefully copying out Missals or some book of the Testa-
ments, or training pupils in the literary exercises of the day;
and their long and healthy lives seemed to them too short
for all the work they wished to perfect for the glory of God
and the good of their neighbour.

St. Fanchea, the sister of St. Enda, once paid a visit to
her brother, accompanied by three of her nuns. She could
not but be much edified by the devout and well-spent lives
of the holy islanders ; and when she was taking leave, she
would not allow a single individual to quit his occupation
for the purpose of rowdng her to the continent. She made
the sign of the Cross on the waves ; and then spreading
her mantle thereon, she and her three nuns took their
places on it, and went gliding across the rough waters of

I 76 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

tlie bay to tlie nearest point on the continent, as tlie island-
ers then and now consider the coast of Ireland. One
corner of the cloak was observed to sink a little below the
surface of the water ; and St. Fanchea, a little surprised,
asked the sister who occupied it what could be the cause.
" I know not," said she, " unless it be that I am bringing
from the island a little pipkin, which I thought would be
of service in our kitchen." ** You have sinned by covetous-
ness, dear sister," said the saint ; " throw away the occasion
of it." She dropped the vessel into the waves readily indeed,
but with a little natural reluctance, and the cloak became
as smooth as the surface of a table.

As St. Enda was one day sitting on a cliff at the south-
eastern side of the island, enjoying the sight of the waves
rushiug in from the " old sea," and dancing under the un-
clouded sunny air, the northern steep cliffs of the other isles
forming the only shade in the picture, he became aware of
a corrach sweeping round the western point of the nearer
isle, and bearing towards the landing-point of Arranmore.
As it approached, he distinguished the gowns and cowls of
monks ; and when he received them at the beach he recog-
nised in their chief the holy Abbot Brendan of Ardfert, in
Kerry (a. d. 484-577). The meeting between the saintly
men was most cordial and edifying to their companions ;
and all were soon in the refectory, partaking of a welcome
repast of oaten bread, milk, and lettuce, of which the voy-
agers had some need.

The host was too much rejoiced to have the holy Abbot
under his roof to feel any curiosity concerning the cause of
his visit ; but his guest, without waiting to be questioned,
entered on the subject immediately after the slight meal
was concluded.

" Dear brothers, I have been suffering for some time from
a strong impulse ; but I am ignorant whether it comes from
the workings of my own ill-regulated imagination or if it
is inspired by Heaven. It is strongly borne in on my
miiid that many, many leagues away, towards the setting of
the sun, a large island rests in the ever- disturbed old sea,
and that men and women of Adam's race are there living
as the blessed Patrick found our forefathers not a century

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN. 1/7

since. If so, is it not clearly our duty to seek out these
brothers and sisters, and endeavour to lead them out of the
gloom of heathenism into the joyful light of Christian
faith r'

Here an aged monk interposed. " I have heard of that
island from the time I was a child. They always called it
Hy-Breasil ; but most of those who spoke of it seemed to
think that it was swallowed up by the pitiless waters about
two hundred years since, and that it becomes visible once in
every seven years. They also told that if any one would
approach so near as to fling a lighted brand in on the shore,
the island would remain firm above the roar and rush of
the waves."

Then said the saint : "From the time that our corrach
left the fair strand of Liath (Tralee) in the south, I have
passed no house of God's servants without consulting the
aged men on this head ; and all I have heard agrees with
your account. As we entered the rough and swelling frith
where old Sionan joins the ocean, in order to visit a religious
house on its northern bank, I could see the buildings, the
gardens, and the silent streets of a sunk city many fathoms
down in the rushing waters ; and I said. Oh ! that I could
converse with one who, when in the flesh, found himself
on firm land where our corrach now floats on the treacherous
wave ! He could give me the information I require. Dear
brother Enda, I will make use of your hospitable shelter
till to-morrow, when I will renew my quest along the head-
lands and islets, — the isles of the White Cows, which were
once as difficult to be found as Hy-Breasil, till an arrow
tipped with fire struck it from a galley ; the isle of Clare, of
Acliil, of Inis na Gloire, and so round within sight of Ben
Gulban, — till I reach the northern isles of Arran and the
rocky sea-walls of Tir Conaill."

The visit of the sainted Ai^bot caused no interruption to
the labours or the religious exercises of the monks of Arran.
He and his followers joined with them in their duties as if
they had lived years on the island ; and next morning all
thronged the church to be present at St. Brendan's Mass.
After the awful moment of consecration, the appearance and
demeanour of the celebrant was as if he stood in the visible

1/0 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

presence of his Lord, such was the reverence and rapture
that sat on his features ; and for some minutes after the
Communion bright rays were seen encircHng his head and
breast.

When the sacrifice was ended, he spoke to the assembled
crowd, intending only to address a short exhortation to
them on courage and perseverance in their duties ; but as
he spoke, the prophetic spirit took possession of him, and
he revealed much of what was to happen to his beloved
country in after times.

" 0 sight of sorrow ! 0 sacred isle, which will hereafter
be called Arran of the Saints, where labour, prayers, medi-
tation, and holy songs fill up the entire circle of the day, —
the time will come upon you when your churches will not
be found, and only a few scattered stones show where they
once stood. !N"ow, at evening and morning, the air resounds
with the music of God's praises : hereafter, no sound shall
be heard but the roar of the waves as they break on the
rocks, and the harsh scream of sea birds. Instead of waving
fields of yellow corn, on which thousands are fed, the rocky
stretch of the isle will scarcely afford sustenance to the
wild-goat. Woe to the decay of piety ! woe to the heathen
spoiler ! Piety driven from Arran shall revive in the green
meadows by the Sionan (Clonmacnois) ; but in generations
to succeed nothing shall be left even there but the tombs
of forgotten chiefs, the moss-covered ruins of church-walls,
and the guardian crosses of the graves. But ' Arise, 0 Lord,
and let Thy enemies be scattered ; and let those who hate
Thee flee from before Thy face !' As fast as God's temples
are pulled down in one place, they shall rise in another ;
and if all were left desolate, the hill-cavern, the deep
lonesome glen, or the wild heath shall be Thy temples, 0
Lord, and the rough rock or flat stone Thy altar. Great
empires may perish, great nations even lose the faith ; but
this island, hallowed in the persons of Patrick and myriads
of sainted men and women, shall preserve that priceless gift
till the eve of the destruction, when it will calmly sink in
the surrounding seas, and its inhabitants be spared, while
still clothed with flesh, the unspeakable terrors of that
dreadful day."

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN. 1 J- 9

At noon St. Brendan re-embarked; and, having given
his benediction to the kneehng hundreds that crowded the
shore, bent his course northwards, through islets and
islands, and by projecting capes, bringing consolation and
gladness to every religious house he visited. The informa-
tion got in the different stations, though slightly varying,
agreed on the whole with what the old monk of Arran gave.
We will not accompany him on his northern voyage, nor
his return to his monastery in the south. The next thing
we find him doing is guiding his galley straight towards
the Fortunate Islands, in hopes of finding a favourable
current to speed his vessel westwards. Twelve select monks
accompanied him ; but one of the number, alas, was more
intent on the possession of treasures, and on the enjoyment
of life in a finer climate, than on bringing the good news of
Christianity to the bewildered heathen.

So the galley went southward, and from day to day they
felt the air growing warmer round them. The companions
of the saint, as well as himself, had a thorough knowledge
of the management of a sea-vessel — for all, before entering
the religious life, had guided corrachs on the lakes, or the
great river of the west, or among the islands that fringe
the coast from Cape Kleir to the " Island of the Tower"
(Tory). They did not go far enough to find the current, but
they found the Fortunate Islands, till now untrodden by
man's foot, though often seen in the dreams of the old
poets. Joyfully did they gather the ripe grapes to prepare
from these the wine for the Holy Sacrifice ; and they laid
in a store of cocoa-nuts for provision against the long
voyage they still expected. They left no spot without care-
fully searching for traces of human beings, to whom they
might address the words of life. At last they left behind
the isles, now called the Azores, and directed their course
by the sun ; they had as yet met no storm, and the guiding
of their galley was a task of little trouble.

Each day was spent as if they were still lodged in their
monastery of Ardfert ; Mass was celebrated at the third
hour (nine a.m.), and all the offices and hymns w'ere recited
or sung at their appropriate times. The night watches of
three hours each were kept ; and thus they proceeded west-

1 80 THE BARDIC STORIES OP IRELAilD.

wards, till at length they joyfully descried the hills, the
forests, and the shores, of an island, which, on approaching,
they might well have taken for paradise, hut for the absence
of dwellers in human shape.

All the beauties that can arise from sunshine, clear blue
skies, mountains green to their summits, shady woods,
green sloping meadows, clear lakes, and sparkling streams,
were there. Flowers of the most brilliant colours waved
on shrubs, and sprung from the short thick herbage ; they
hung in festoons between the trees, or depended from the
branches, gladdening the sight, and giving promise of sweet
and refreshing fruit; while birds of the most beautiful and
varied plumage entranced the souls of the voyagers by their
melody. This melody was of a sacred character ; and the
natural notes of the little choristers that produced it were
as varied as those of the strings of the finest harp.

St. Brendan, judging from the style of the music that
there was something supernatural about the beautiful little
creatures, adjured them in God's name to explain the mys-
tery. The branches of the tree next him were full of the
charming songsters ; and as he spoke they ceased their song
and one of them returned this answer :

" Holy man, we were all glorious angels at the time now
long past, when pride and disobedience entered the heart
of the unhappy Lucifer ; and though we did not sympa-
thise with his rebellious feelings, we dallied with the temp-
tation, and were flung from heaven in his company. While
the arch-enemy and his troops were piercing through the
sulphurous waves of hell in their headlong fall, our descent
was mercifully stayed by this island, which, bright and beau-
tiful as it appears to you, is drear and desolate to us, who
remember heaven. We still perceive the swift passage of
our former glorious companions in their way to far-off
worlds, to execute the will of the all- mighty and all-
merciful : we see the shining traces left where they pass.
Such happiness and glory is now lost to us ; but we do what
is mercifully left in our power. We cease not, night and
day, joining our voices to those of the heavenl}^ choirs above ;
and when, in the lapse of years, this island becomes the
abode of human beings, and their prayers and hymns begin

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN. lb I

to ascend to heaven, we will be permitted to rise with tliem,
and regain that happiness which it is not in our power to
explain, nor in yours to comprehend."

As they were leaving the happy island, probably one of
the Bermudas, they were told that they would be allowed
to return, and spend the next Paschal tide on its shore ;
and so they resumed their w^estward course again.

But as they hoped to be nearing the desired land, they
met a strong current, w^hich, coming with a mighty rush
from the south-Avest, swept them before it for several days.
They began to feel an unwelcome degree of cold : a dis-
agreeable wind came on them from the north-west, a fog
enveloped them, and they had no means of judging in what
direction they were drifting. While they were thus tossed
about at the mercy of the winds and waves, they approached
what seemed a low rushy island. They were wearied by
the narrow limits of their little vessel ; and four of the
number went on shore, for the pleasure of Avalking about
at liberty, taking a small cauldron and some fuel with them
to prepare a meal.

While one of the party blew up his fire, the others
walked about to stretch their limbs. They were rather
surprised at the slimy elastic surface of the ground, and the
hard sharp sort of grass — if grass it could be called — which
it produced ; but their surprise was soon changed to terror;
for, as they returned towards the fire-place, they found the
soil heaving, the cauldron tumbling over, and the fire scat-
tering on every side. There was no time to be lost : they
hastened to the brink of the treacherous island, and scram-
bled into their galley. They were scarcely in safety on the
hospitable deck, when they beheld the supposed isle move
rapidly away, and the remnants of the fire flung on every
side, with the convulsive heavings of the spot on which it
had been lighted. They now judged that they had intruded
on the repose of some sea-monster ; and immediately falling
on their knees, they returned fervent thanks for their pre-
servation.

Still the fog surrounded them, and still the vessel kept
on its confused and uncertain course ; and at times they
were swept along by furious gusts of wind, now darting

] 82 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

down the steep side of a mountain-like wave, and then
shooting np the ascent of the next, with a force seemingly
sufficient to launch the ship into the clouds. At last they
perceived a lurid light through the thick grey veil that sur-
rounded them ; and frightful yells and explosions from the
same quarter burst on their terrified ears.

The ship was impelled by the waves in the direction of
the noises ; and they were soon able to distinguish a conical
islet, volumes of fire and black smoke issuing from its sum-
mit, and a band of yelling demons hovering round the base
of the hill. As soon as they became visible, they flung
about their limbs in the wildest manner, yelled terrifically,
and roared out these words from their brazen throats :
" Welcome, brother ! we have long waited for you. Your
place is prepared : come, come ! " St. Brendan was no
more moved by the appalling spectacle than if he was
looking on a group of dolphins gamboling on the quiet
•waves ; but the words of the evil spirits took him by sur-
prise. He looked round on his pious companions : the
faces of eleven were expressive of awe, but an awe overruled
by the calm courage inspired by confidence in their heavenly
Master. But, ah ! the horror and despair that distorted
the countenance of the twelfth ! He flung up his arms,
roared aloud in the extremity of his anguish, and cursed
the hour of his birth.

" Oh, my poor brother " cried the saint, as he looked with
pity on the wretched man, " turn away your eyes from the
hellish sight : fall on your knees ; cry to our Lord for for-
giveness of your sins ; call on the Mother of Mercy for her
intercession : she will stand between you and these mons-
ters of hell."

" Too late, too late !" cried out the unfortunate. "While
at home, I lived an unholy and hypocritical Hfe. I sinned
secretly ; and when I joined your company, it was only to
find a pleasant land, treasures of gold and silver, luxurious
living, and unholy companions."

" Dear brother, your sins cannot overpower God's mercy.
^Take an act of contrition, detest your past ill deeds, and
fling yourself on the mercy of your Father."

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAX. 1 83

" I cannot ; there are my instigators and my companions
for eternit3\"

He sprung from the side of the vessel with hands clench-
ed at the horrible spectres, the dark waves closed over
the lost creature, and the volcano and the fiends vanished
from the sight of the awed servants of God. For the next
twenty-four hours they little heeded the movements of their
vessel, nor in what direction it was driven by vnud and

They had now been for several weeks wandering at ran-
dom in the great waters, far to the northwards of the blessed
isle of birds : their stock of fuel was nearly exhausted ; snow
was falling in abundance, and they were suffering intense
cold. The Eve of the Nativity had arrived, and the holy
men were devising how they might celebrate the festival in
the best way that their circumstances allowed. It was
about an hour after noon ; and while they were expecting
the immediate withdrawal of the feeble light that was
abroad, the thick lead-coloured air began to brighten tow-
ards the south-west. It seemed as if dense veils were
withdrawing one by one from between them and the sun ;
and in a short time they began to enjoy his light and
warmth, of which they had been deprivecl for weeks. They
found themselves near a rocky island, and their joy was
much increased by the sight of a man very roughly clad,
standing on the shore and making signs to them expressive
of the most joyful welcome.

Following the directions which he gave them, they guid-
ed their vessel round a point into a harbour naturally
formed, where they were enabled to station it alongside of
a ledge of smooth rock, which served as a rude but service-
able quay. The unknown gave his assistance ; and as soon
as St, Brendan was on the land, he threw himself at his
feet and embraced his knees with the deepest love and re-
verence. The saint raised and embraced him ; but as if
he felt uneasy under the honour conferred on him, he
passed to every one of the crew and embraced and welcomed
them. " Holy Father and most dear brothers," said he, as
soon as he had welcomed each, " let me assist you in bring-

J 84 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

ing the most necessary articles in the vessel to my cavern,
which, thank God, is pretty comfortable, and large enough
for all. For seven yeais I have not seen form or face of a
brother, nor enjoyed the happiness of being present at Mass.
I praise Thee, 0 my Saviour, with all my powers, for that
great benefit which I shall, with Thy divine permission,
obtain on this festival of Thy Nativity."

They collected whatever was most needful, and followed
their guide and host to his cavern, which, though unpro-
mising enough in outward appearance, was tolerably com-
modious within, and now rendered cheerful by the presence
of a good fire. The hermit's provisions consisted of some
dried fish and pure spring- water. The ship's stock of hard
cakes was not yet all consumed, and a piece of the hard
bread was as acceptable to the recluse as the pure water was
to his guests. So, after a couple of hours occupied in the
appropriate devotions of the festival-eve, they all sat down,
and for the first time that day tasted food.

The vigil was appropriately kept ; but few of those who
assist once a week at the Holy Sacrifice, with minds and
hearts only slightly affected, could conceive the heavenly
joy and rapture which took possession of the soul of the
recluse as he assisted at the midnight ^fass celebrated by
St. Brendan. The saint himself was more rapt than usual ;
and the rest seemed, after the sacrifice was ended, as if
awaking from a blissful dream, in which they had been en-
joying Paradise.

So they kept up, as well as they could, the twelve days'
festivities, being as happy as brotherly love, a lively sense
of the immediate protection of Providence, and an all-ab-
sorbing love of God could make them. In one of their
hours of relaxation, their host gave them an account of
what had led to his solitary life on that remote and desolate
island.

He had been an inmate of the monastery of Inis-na-Gloire ;
and, like the monk whose miserable fate was still so pain-
fully remembered, he had fallen into sins of a deadly nature.
Under the influence of remorse and despair he at last ran
to the shore, intending to throw himself into the unpitying
waves ; but before he came to the edge, his will had yielded

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN. 1 85

to the motion of grace, and despair had given way to con-
trition. A boat was leaving the Httle harbour, and he felt
inspired to enter it, and commit his after proceedings to
Pro^adence. After some days a terrible storm came, and
swept the little vessel out of its coasting course into the wide
wild deep. In a sudden lurch of the boat he lost his hold
on the bulwarks, and he was flung out into the merciless
water. He felt that his last hour was come. All the wil-
fully vicious thoughts that ever had caused him to sin, —
all the sinful acts that he had ever committed, — became
present to his inward sight at that moment, to drive him to
despair; but he invoked Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, and
made an act of contrition and of charity. He then seemed
as if falling into a delightful slumber ; and when his con-
sciousness returned, he found himself lying on the rocks
that skirt the landing-place of that isle. After a good deal
of exploring, he saw no sign of any kind of food, nor of fire
to cook it ; and he was about lying down to await death
when an otter came up, holding with his sharp teeth a fish,
which he dropped at his feet. But how could he kindle a
fire ? The otter ran before him to the edge of an upright
rock, and scratching at its base, exposed to view a couple
of hard bright flint stones. Collecting some dry sticks and
moss and withered leaves, he lighted a fire by means of his
flints, and made a feast on the otter's present. He after-
wards discovered the cavern, and, under the promptings
of necessity, found means of catching fish and some wild
fowl. He had now lived a lonely life on the island for
seven years, and as he hoped had his desires and affections
weaned from worldly things — his chief regret being his se-
paration from the blessings of public worship and the Sa-
craments. His deliverance from solitude, and succession to
the inheritance of a lost brother, had been revealed to him
a long time past. He had now attained the sum of happi-
ness he could fancy to exist on earth, and besought his de-
liverers to unite their prayers for his perseverance in good.
To the Cjuestions of St. Brendan on the existence of a
large island yet undiscovered, and probably uninhabited,
he answered that an aged monk of Inis-na-Gloire had as-
sured him that such was the fact, the only doubt being

1 86 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

about the existence of inhabitants. It was not the island
called Hy-Breasil, for that and the men and -women last
living on it were thousands of fathoms below the surface of
the old sea.

Early in the spring the waters were mercifully opened, so
that the bark was allowed to find its way southwards ; and,
after a voyage of three weeks, they were permitted the sight
of the wooded shore of the long-sought continent. The
landing, the joy of the holy men, the celebration of an early
Mass on their newly-found territory, cannot be described in
detail, nor their after weary and laborious journey through
swamp, prairie, thick forest, and stony hills. They held on
their toilsome errand westwards, but neither found a human
being, nor the traces of one. At last when their bodily
powers were prostrate, and the deepening shades under the
tall thick-growing trees betokened the approach of night,
tbey beheld, through the stems and brushwood, the slow
and turbid waters of a wide river flowing south.

Collecting some dry brushwood, they made a fire, and
prepared their frugal supper. When it was over they be-
took themselves to prayer, and that holy exercise occupied
them two hours.

Before disposing themselves to rest for the night, they
sat down beside their cheerful wood-fire, and began to take
counsel as to what was the next befitting step to take. St.
Brendan was about addressing his little devoted band,
when the attention of all was attracted by a luminous mass
of vapour approaching from the farther bank of the river.
As it drew near, it seemed to unfold itself, and presently
all were on their knees, and gazing with delight and re-
verence on an angel glorious in shape and countenance.
All feeling of weariness and of disappointment was gone,
and their souls were filled with rapture, as he addressed
them.

" Faithful workers in your Master's vineyard, your
present labours have come to an end : they arc for the
moment fruitless, but their intention has rendered them
acceptable in the sight of Jehovah. This wide-spreading
land will be yet unknown to the people of Christendom
for the lapse of ten centuries. Then a heaven-led man

THE VOYAGE OF ST. BRENDAN. 1 87

acquainted with your voyage, and following in your track,
will arrive on these shores, and myriads of dwellers re-
ceive the GosjDel of the Saviour. The memory of your
wanderings shall remain even till then fresh in the minds
of the holy men of Erinn. Take now the repose of sleep ;
then retrace your way to your remote isle, and work while
it is light for your neighbour s salvation and your own."

The angel ceased to speak ; but they enjoyed the en-
trancing light of his heavenly features for some short space,
and then all faded but the ruddy light of their decaying
fire. The night passed, and so did many succeeding ones ;
and they measured back their woodland course, and found
their bark as they had left it, moored in a cjuiet creek ;
and guiding it eastwards, they landed on the blest "Island
of the Birds," on the day preceding the Festival of Palms.

The always sweet melody of the birds grew wilder,
sweeter, and more heavenly, as the blessed bark approached
their shore ; and most delightful and consohng were the
communications of the saints and these temporary exiles
from Paradise. High Mass was celebrated by St. Brendan
and two of his priests, on the great day of the Pasch ; and
the assistants remained entranced during the portions in
which the spirits sung their hymns, — echoes of those long
since heard in heaven. The holy Sacrifice began two
hours before noon. To the assistants and celebrants it
seemed shorter than an ordinary Mass ; but when it came
to an end, the trees were flinging long shadows towards
the east.

They did not quit the happy island till after celebrating
Pentecost. They then began to feel that the amount of
happiness they were enjoying, though of a spiritual nature,
was more than behoved a servant of God during his mor-
tal pilgrimage. So they sorrowfully bade adieu to the
blessed exiles, and trusted themselves once more to the
wide deep. They reached the coast of Erinn in safety ;
and of the later silent labours of the saint and his holy
assistants, there remains but a scanty record. Their days
were occupied in labour, in instructing the ignorant, in
praying, in converting the few pagans that remained, and

loo THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

ill founding religious houses. An exciting liistory cannot
be constructed out of materials sucli as these.

Another voyage varied the* after-life of our saint ; but it
was only a visit to the holy isle of lona in the Hebrides,
to St. Columba, the Apostle of the Pictish nation. He
was called to his reward when on a visit to his sister, at
her religous house of Clonfert, in Galway. As may be
readily supposed, he loved to look on the ^vild scenery of
the wave-worn western coast of his country : the mountain
to which he has left his name still enjoys a wide view of
the seacliffs and the broad Atlantic.

It will readily be believed that the sermons addressed to the more
or less learned congregations of our days must difiFer in some degree
from the instructions given to unlettered assemblies of those ages
that possessed no printed books, or that were painfully passing fi'om
a pagan to a Christian life. Parables, allegories, striking histories,
and miraculous events in saints' lives were frequently introduced in
the homilies of St. Eloy, St. Hilary, St. Martin, and aU the preachers
of their eras ; and from time to time these were collected, and written
down by monks skilful at the pen, and read on proper occasions, in
the chieftain's haU and the monastic refectory. Hence the name
"legend " from legenda — subjects fit to be read for edification. The
most famous collection of this kind is the Legenda Aurea, copies of
which printed by Caxton, are still extant. The voyage of St. Brendan,
originally written for Queen Adelais, wife of Henry Beauclerc, is
preserved in that work ; and the curious may read a poetic version
of it in the Dublin University Magazine for January, 1848, contributed
by Denis Florence Mac Carthy. There is an abridged prose version
in the same periodical for May, 1852.

SOME OF KING GUAIKE'S DOINGS.

This unlucky monarch ruled Conacht in the sixth cen-
tury when Diarmuidh was Ard-Righ, and St. Colum Cille
preaching the Gospel to the Picts, and establishing his
great monastery. In his daj^s the arrogance of the bards
took such proportions that at a collection of kings and
chiefs held at Tara it was resolved to banish the whole body
from the kingdom. However, that would have been put-
ting the use and abuse of a good thing on the same footing ;

SOME OF KING GUAIRE's DOINGS. 1 89

SO St. Colum Cille and other learned and pious men exerted
themselves to such good effect that every chief and king
retained one of these sons of song and romantic legend,
and punishments were appointed for parties who would
take the liberty of going from lios to dun, as in the days
gone by, and laying contributions on the unfortunate pos-
sessors. Before this salutary regulation was made, no chief
or king suffered more from the unreasonableness of the
bardic corporation than Guaire (pr. Gwaaray\ the soft-
hearted King of Conacht, who kept court at Gort. The
trials of temper which they inflicted on his easy good na-
ture will be detailed in our paper on the power of satire
among our Celtic forefathers ; the present story illustrates
the misfortunes inflicted on him for his ignorance of the
proper relations between justice and generosity.

If a charitable king ever reigned in Erinn, that king's
name was Guaire. If he was travelling on the highway
unprovided with copper or silver, beggars behind him ask-
ing for alms, and rich folk before him with much money in
their girdles, and little charity in their hearts, he would
relieve one party of their useless wealth, relieve the other
party from their pressing needs, and relieve himself of his
uneasy feelings. On the occasion of giving an entertain-
ment to his nobles, one or two of whom particularly relished
a tender beefsteak, he found to his annoyance that he had
not in his large demesnes a single cow or ox in condition
to furnish his epicurean guests with a desirable relish.
What was to be done % Inquiries were made, and not a
single gentleman-cowkeeper was furnished with a two-year-
old worthy to be served up at the Royal table. At last,
tidings were brought of an animal the fittest for his pur-
pose, but it belonged to a poor widow, who would neither
give it as a present, nor sell it for any sum that could be
offered. Here was a dilemma ! The widow woman was
offered any sum she chose to name ; she was threatened
with the displeasure of Guaire; but she remained inflexible ;
she would not give up her favourite brownie to be sacrificed
even by the hand of the Eoyal butcher. So the privy coun-
cil was summoned, and as there existed no law in the entire
Brehon collection under which the obstinate woman could

IpO THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

be punislied, they made a bye-law for their purpose, and
confiscated all her goods — the cow, to wit. It was taken
from her little byre, led away, and slaughtered. Trusty ser-
vants in the royal livery were with her in an hour after the
foray, as she was moaning and rocking herself backwards
and forwards in her little kitchen ; but though they offered
her untold sums of gold and silver, she would not touch a
single screpal (threepence).

Well, the feast was held, and all praises given to the
tender piece of beef, and to the cook's skill in dressing it.
The entertainment lasted for three days ; and just as the
guests were departing, a herald, with the royal tabard of
Tara on his back, presented himself and made open procla-
mation against the host, '* For that he had on the 30th ult.,
etc., etc., diabolo suadenie, with maUce prepense, and with
force and arms — to wit, a thousand spears, a thousand

swords, a thousand , etc.^ etc., entered, and by force did

enter, the Widow Oonagh's premises — to wit, her bawn,
her paddock, her byre, her dwellinghouse, her shrubbery,
her cabbage-garden, etc., and did then and there, contrary
to the statute in that case made and provided, seize, drive
off, and abduct a thousand cows, a thousand cattle — to wit,

one cow of the statute value of , etc., etc." Guaird

had drunk as much wine as was at all beneficial to his
constitution. He looked confidently round on the assem-
bled chiefs, and they would to a man have encouraged their
hospitable prince to defy the intermeddling sovereign ; but
the herald was present, and perhaps might put a bad con-
struction on their words. So they whispered together,
looked at Guaire with contemptuous pity, looked at the
herald with much respect, and departed to their own raths
like peaceable and prudent fathers of families.

Poor Guaire now saw his standing with very distinct and
painful clearness ; and, after a few moments' sad reflection,
he addressed the herald : — " Tell Diarmuidh, the Ard-Righ,
that had I forces on whom I could depend, I would main-
tain my rights to the last drop of my blood, but I am de-
serted as you see. So, not to be the cause of one unneces-
sqjy death, I deliver you my crown, my belt, and my sword,

SOME OF KING GUAIRE'S DOINGS. Ipl

to be laid at the foot of the throne, and I release my sub-
jects from all present and future allegiance to myself."

He quitted his palace, and wandered along, oppressed with
sorrow and shame. He took no note of time or place, and
at the fall of night he found himself at the bawn-gate of
a little cabin, wearied, hungry, and dispirited. He entered
the house, and asked the mistress for something to eat, and
for leave to sleep under her roof that night. " I will give
you a piece of dry bread," said she, "and welcome to a
night's rest, but neither milk nor butter to relish your fare,
thanks to our king's advisers." "Are you the widow woman
whose cow was taken to furnish the king's feast 1" " I am,
indeed." " Then, if you are so disposed, you may rejoice
in his punishment ; he is your lodger for this night. Why
was revenge so sweet to you that you should take your
complaint to Tara V "I did nothing of the kind, my
sovereign. Some ill-disposed and concealed enemy of
yours has indulged his spite, and obtained his reward.
You are still my king, and I must endeavour to provide
for your suj^per something better than a dry oaten cake."
She threw on her cloak, and might have been absent about
a quarter of an hour when the moody king heard shouts at
a little distance from the cabin. Eunning out, and hasten-
ing in the direction of the cries, he found his hostess up to
her hips in the stream, holding a strong salmon by the gills,
and using her strongest arguments to induce him to come
on shore. AYith the king's assistance, he was forced from
his element, and he furnished an agreeable relish to the
supper of Guaire and his good-natured hostess.

After a week's wandering, Guaire got completely sick of
his scrambling existence, and repaired to Tara. It was
easier to get an audience from a sovereign in the sixth
century than from a squireen of the nineteenth. The Ard-
Righ occupied a raised seat in an open hall at certain hours,
and everyone that had need approached the throne in their
turn. He recognised Guaire when he entered the hall, and
beckoned him to advance. He approached, and bending the
left knee, he saluted the sovereign, and resigned himself to
his disposal. " You acknowledge the wrong you did to the
poor woman ] " "I do, noble Diarmuidh." " You have

192 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

acted as Ahab to Naboth, and as the rich man in the par-
able addressed to David, and as David himself." " I have,
my king." " Then place this sword between your teeth,
acknowledge your offence anew, and repeat your vows of
fidelity to the chief king of Erinn ; for you would have
entered into contention and conflict with him if you had
been supported." " I would have done that." So poor
Guair^, being obliged to lay aside his wide cloak with its
curiously-wrought brooch, his Phrygian bonnet, and his
many-plaited saffron tunic, and go on his knees, repeated
the hard lesson with a naked sword between his teeth ;
and after the operation, he was left in that uncomfortable
state for a quarter of an hour.

The Ard-Kigh left the hall before the expiration of Guaire's
penance. When the quarter of an hour had elapsed he was
shown into a room where a pile of oat-cakes, a haunch of
venison, and a flagon of wine were disposed on the table.
He was invited to fall to, and required no second call, for
he was "unmistakably hungry. This meal was scarcely over
when a sly-looking bard presented himself, and knowing
Guaire's generous disposition, entertained him with an ac-
count of the niggardly style in which he was supported at
court. " Would you believe it, most munificent Guaire, I
that can repeat one hundred and fifty stories and poems
enjoy no better state than the mere master of fifty, and you
could not distinguish my gilly and my steed from those of
the unlettered bodach of the field?" He continued some
minutes to enlarge on his neglected and impoverished con-
dition, and finally hinted that a present from the munificent
ex-king would meet with much welcome.

The shortest road to his girdle was well known to the
right hand of Guaire, but in this instance it did not even
commence the journey. He had got a severe lesson on the
folly of injuring himself or others by gratifying the worth-
less or extravagant, so he gave a flat refusal to the man of
the one hundred and fifty tales. That worthy went away
muttering, and was soon succeeded by a miserable object, a
leper, who implored his charity. Guaire had no coins in
his pouch, so he handed him the richly-carved gold brooch
that held his mantle at the neck. The poor creature with-

SOME OF KING GUAIRE 3 DOIN'GS. 19 5

drew, imploring blessings on his generous patron, but was
back ia a few minutes wringing his hands and bestowing
every vile name he could recollect on the rascally poet who
had waylaid him, and robbed him of his brooch. The only
thing now left to Guaire to give away was the studded belt
which fastened his tunic at the waist, and this he freely
parted with, beseeching the leper to guard it wel], as he now
liad not in his possession so much as a screpal to bestow in.
charity. It is probable that King Diarmuidh was at the
heart of all this annoyance, as he had determined to probe
Guaire s disposition to the quick.

The ex- king felt himself under no restraint — at least,
none that he could perceive — and he was a daily guest at
the table of the Ard-Eigh, who, in this unrestrained inter-
course, was able to sound the charity and simple-hearted-
ness of his guest, and his want of ambition. The great
assembly of Tailtean was visited by the monarch and his
court ; and there Guaire witnessed many an engagement of
marriage and many a contract of service for the coming
year, and was a spectator of the knightly contests for which
the assembly had been celebrated since the days of Lucha,
ELing of the Danaans. He was furnished with a well-filled
purse on setting out for the meeting ; but you may guess
his chagrin (or. rather you cannot guess it), at not finding,
through the length and breadth of the fair, a beggar Avho
would condescend to ask him for relief. This was hard
enough to bear for the first day ; but on the evening of the
second day he found it unendurable, and on the morning
of the third day he was unable to rise from his bed. He
begged for a confessor, as he considered death to be at hand ;
but King Diarmuidh paying him a visit, requested him to
come to the assembly with him the third day, promising
him the aid of an infallible doctor, who was sure to be on
the spot.

This day he was scarcely out of his palace when he was
secured by his patrons, the beggars. Heart and girdle-
purse began to be lightened alike, and by sunset there was
not a healthier or happier man in the old field of Tailtean.

A week from that day the neighbourhood of the old
palace of Gort was in an excited and crowded state, for the

J3

194 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

Ard-Eigh of Erinn was lodged within, and was expected to
announce within an hour the new king of the province to
its assembled nobles and duine-uasals. At noon all were
assembled within the great hall ; Guair^ was sitting at
some distance from the throne, and the widow and the in-
former were both present. Diarmuidh made a short speech,
standing in front of the royal seat. He commended the
independence of the widow, the apparent public spirit of
the informer, the prudence of the chiefs, and passed just
censure on the unthinking and disloyal conduct of the
king. " Perhaps," added he, " my loyal people may think
the resolution I have arrived at not very consistent with
these remarks ; but I assure them I have given more than
one day to the consideration of the matter, and am sorry
that I have not time to explain the processes by which my
resolution has been shaped. This it is : Guaire I reinstate
in his power, on the condition of his being guided by the
opinions of his wise councillors in his future charities ; and
to his free will and discretion, as to life, death, fine, or
imprisonment, I resign the obstinate widow and the disin-
terested informer."

A shout of joy and triumph rose from every part of the
hall except the bench occupied by the prudent chiefs. The
Ard-Eigh conducted Guaire to his old seat of dignity, and
strained him in a cordial embrace. He gave a hearty kiss
to the blushing widow on each cheek, dismissed the as-
sembly till dinner would be ready, and after a sojourn of
two days, left behind him the happiest king and subjects
in Christendom. The widow lived for the rest of her days
within the precincts of the Eoyal Eath, a governess of the
king's byres, and the informer comforted himself as well as
he could by the approval of his own conscience !

THE EOAD OF THE DISHES.

Guaire was as dear to the old Irish story-tellers as the
Caliph Haroun Alraschid to those of Mecca or Grand Cairo.
Our present legend has, however, little to do with the

TEE ROAD OF THE DISHES. 19-

doiiigs of the king, the chief incident havnig reference to his
sainted brother Mochua, and occurring at an Easter tide
after his restoration.

The last week of Lent had come to the dwellers at the
court of Guaire at Durlus, many of whom had found the
abstinence from flesh rather trying to their mere sensual
natures. Three or four sons of chiefs who were enthusias-
tic chasers of the deer as well as admirers of its flesh when
nicely cooked, were sauntering leisurely through the ad-
joining forest one of the days of Holy Week, and entertain-
ing some rather selfish aspirations that the strict season
might quickly conclude, and afi'ord them the gratification
of indulging in their beloved sport, as well as of tasting
juicy venison again, when all at once they caught sight of
a noble buck dashing through the trees at a short distance
from them. They were aware of the orders given by the
king that during Holy Week no wild animal should be
slain, and with the exception of a single spear, no one in
the group was provided with arms. Under the sudden sur-
prise, however, all cast eager glances at this weapon and its
holder, and he under a strong impulse dashed forward a
few perches, and suddenly stopping, and poising his lance,
launched it with such force and skill, that the next mo-
ment the fleet and spirited animal was struggling in the
death-pang.

The triumph of the little party was dashed with chagrin.
Their consciences accused them of disobedience, or sympa-
thy with the disobedience, but they agreed to say nothing
of the exploit, and to trust to some lucky accident for the
skilful cooking of the game for their Easter dinner, and
escape from being obliged to account for its capture.

The holy morning came Avitli its enlivening devotions,
its welcome breakfast, and its no less welcome relaxations ;
and when dinner hour arrived, and the joints of meat were
arranged on the large table, and the comj^any prepared to
take their seats, the venison about whose acquisition some
mystery lingered, attracted more eyes than any other por-
tion of the feast.

At that moment a scene of a different character was pas-
sing in the cell of St. Mochua, the king's brother, who

13*

19*5 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

dwelt in a cell five miles distant from the palace at Diirliis
Guaire. The self-denying man had passed the Lent in
acts of devotion, eating nothing during the time but scraps
of barley bread, and water cress, when absolute need was
felt. Even now when the time for fast and abstinence
had passed away, and his morning devotions and his Pas-
chal Mass were finished, he showed no sign of exhaustion,
or wish for feasting, for which indeed there had been no
provision made.

If the saint seemed unconscious of want of refreshment,
or the unlikelihood of procuring it, it was a different matter
with his attendant clerk, who having courageousl}'" endured
the barley bread and the cress for nearly seven weeks, now
felt the desirability of a decent meal of bread and a piece
(if roast meat. He opened his mind on the subject to his
master, who enjoying a fit of meditation at the moment
could scarcely become sensible of his poor follower's griev-
ance. When fully aware of the uncomfortable condition of
his hu^ible brother, he began to be in trouble, but in a mo-
ment or two his countenance brightened up, and he ad-
dressed him a few words of comfort, promising on the part
of Providence that relief was at hand.

Guair^'s company, as already said, were on the point of
taking their seats, and the four young comrades devouring
with eyes and nose the tempting dish of venison, when on
a moment that same dish taking the lead, and the others
following suite, arose from the board, and noiselessly cleav-
ing the air, passed out at the door, and slowly, and in an
even line, the deer's meat still leading the way, directed
their flight southwards in the direction of the cell of the
sainted Mochua. After a moment of amaze, loud exclama-
tions of anger and lament arose, and out rushed the noble
company in pursuit, the four culpable hunters leading the
way. There was no need of hurry ; the dishes held on their
steady way some ten feet from the ground, and merely re-
<|uired the pursuers to keep up a brisk pace, not to let
them out of sight. On went the race, enlivened and diver-
sified by groans, objurgations, and now and then bursts of
merriment, at least such merriment as hungry men could
afford to exhibit. Coming near the cell of the saint which

THE ROAD OF THE DISHES. 1 97

was cut out of a rock with a smiling plot of green turf be-
fore it, the dish in the van sailed lightly into the grotto,
and the others disposed themselves in a circle on the dry
grass outside.

At five perches from the grotto the four young chiefs,
pressing forwards with the rest, found their feet firmly
locked to the ground, and there, with feelings of shame,
anger, and remorse, they were obliged to remain while their
companions advanced, and received on bended knees the
blessing of the saint. Arising and receiving his exhorta-
tion to take their food, they sat down, and with the aid of
the pure spring water from the rock, they made as hearty
a meal as if they were round the large hall table at Durlus.
But the condition of the four youths soon attracted their
attention, and there arose from the different groups some
bursts of laughter, mingled with various expressions of con-
cern.

The king and the saint approached them, and the latter
exhorted them to acknowledge the hidden sin for which
they were now suffering. The youth who had slain the
deer, immediately acknowledged his fault, and willingly
took the entire blame to himself. Mochua having satisfied
himself that the sorrow was sincere, gave the men his bless-
ing, and they found their limbs at liberty. They got
enough to satisfy their hunger in one of the dishes, but at
that Easter dinner, did not enjoy the taste of the smallest
bit of the coveted venison. The poor clerk got a consider-
able fright when he first saw the crowd approach in pursuit
of the runaway food, so he took his meal in moderation.

That Easter feast was long remembered at Durlus Guair^,
and to modern times the route taken by the viands bore
the name of Bothar na Jlias (Way of the Dishes).

THE CHASTISEMENT OF THE BARDS.

Pleasant images to the souls of the youthful and the poetic
are the assemblages of knights and ladies in the great hall of
chief or king in former days ; the filea, or chief poet, repeat-
ing some heart- stirring lay in whose subject, and language,

igS THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

and deliver}^, all are wrapt — the harpers uniting the melodies
of their instruments with the melodj^ of the bard's voice at
intervals, the applause given at the end by the noble au-
dience, and the cups of gold, the collars, the mantles, the
brooches, and the other rich gifts conferred on the minstrels
at the close by the generous monarch or chief. It was all
very brilliant, very sentimental, and very exciting no doul^t,
but the finest tapestry has its reverse.

Before King Diarmuidh limited the number of poets to
the proportion of one to each chief, Ireland was a mere
pasture-ground for the great herd of wandering minstrels
that went from lios to caisiol, reciting their heroic lays and
stories, and carrying away from the unfortunate owners
such commodities as those mentioned above — even cattle
being acceptable when the gold and silver goblets, and rich
brooches, and ring-money came short.

A simple reader may ask why did kings and chiefs sub-
mit to such extortion and tyranny at the hands of these
learned and grasping sons of song ? But he would not pro-
j)ound the query if he were aware of the power of satire
over the sensitive minds of the ancient Irish gentry — an in-
fluence to which they submitted down to the end of the last
century. A chief or petty prince of old days would con-
sider himself unworthy to rule his tribe in peace, or lead
them to battle, if he were certain that the man of three
hundred and fifty stories, or even of a single fifty, had sa-
tirised his 230verty or stinginess at the fort of a neighbour-
ing lord.

In later days the place of the extinct line of bards was
filled by decayed folk who had once been gentlemen, or
were sons of decayed gentlemen, and through pride and
laziness preferred to pass from one castle to another, and
live at free quarters, rather than enter into business, or
harden their soft palms mth vulgar tools. They were gene-
rally furnished with bitter tongues, and few of their un-
willing entertainers dared to hint at their room being desi-
rable, least the genteel "Shuler" might entertain his next
hosts at their expense. If he was more or less gifted with
a power of stringing rhymes, his clients were all the more
to be pitied.

THE CHASTISEMENT OF THE BARDS. 1 99

The withering satire of an eminent bard made its power
be felt even on the brute creation, and fame in this respect
reached as far as Britain : witness Ben Jonson and Ran-
dolph, the author of the " Jealous Lovers " : —

" Rhyme them to death as they do Irish rats
In drumming tunes." * *

m * * *

" And my poet
Shall, with a satire steeped in vinegar,
Rhyme them to death as they do rats in Ireland."

It was not without considerable sinking of heart that
Guaire received a message announcing the impending visit
of Seanchan, chief bard of Erinn, with the widow of the
hist chief bard, the hard-to-be-pleased Miiirrean, together
with thrice fifty professors, thrice fifty students, thrice fifty
hounds, thrice fifty male attendants, thrice fifty female re-
latives, and some miscellaneous followers.

Guaire possessed some moral courage, united to a high
degree of the physical quality. He met the mighty mass
of visitors, kissed their chiefs, and welcomed the entire body
in these terms — " My regards to you all ; my regards to
your nobles and ignobles ; I have great welcome for you all,
both professors and poets, both scientific men and students,
both men and women, both hounds and servants. Only
you are so numerous (but not deeming you too many), I
would give each of you a separate w^elcome. However, my
respects to you all on every side." — Vide Ossianic Transac-
tions, vol. 5.

The widow of the late lamented bard, his illustrious
successor, and their long array, were entertained royally
in a newly-raised little town of wooden houses ; but every
night the colony was disturbed by some one of the women
being seized with an irresistible wish for some strange com-
modity such as would seem unprocurable in the kingdom.
The whole community would be kept awake the remainder
of the night listening to the lamentation of the lady seized
on by the wishes, and devising ways and means to satisfy
her. On the next morning after the arrival, Guaire pre-
senting himself and expressing his hopes that all had passed
a comfortable night, his ears were dinned on both sides by

200 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

tlie reports of want of sleep, and other inconveniences
suffered by the bards, and their students, and the assistants,
and the women from the complaints of Muirrean, because
she had not a cup of beer extracted from the lierb tormentil,
the marrow of the ankle-bone of the wild hog, a pet cuckoo
in an ivy bush, a gown of spiders' web girdled by a belt of
the yellow lard of a white hog, and herself in possession of
these rare articles, mounted on a steed with brown mane
and white feet, and humming a tune on the way to Durlus.

The thin-skinned Guaire, on hearing these modest wishes,
was at his wit's end, knowing that he was expected to fulfil
every whim of his troublesome guests while they incum-
bered his court. He retired, and after some hours' study,
finding himself a thousand miles from the accomplishment
of the most modest of the desires — knowing his inabilit}'-
to outlive a lampoon, and unwilling to commit suicide, he
resolved on the only feasible course in his power. He
started off for the fort of Fulachtach, son of Owen, with
whom he was at deadly feud, nothing being easier than to
let himself be slain in the consequent fight. However, he
was turned from his purpose by his half-brother Marvan,
who, though a saint, desired no more respectable occupation
than herding his brother's swine. Having learned Guair^'s
grievance, he promised to procure all the articles demanded,
including the yellow lard of his own white boar. He was
as wrathful as a saint could well be, at being obliged to
kill his faithful and useful animal, and the words he said
are set forth in Irish and English in The Ossianic Trans-
actions, vol. 5 : —

" * May what she wishes for be of little service ! Sure
it is I who have that boar, and it is a hardship to me to
kill him, for he is to me a herdsman, a musician, a physi-
cian , a messenger.' ' How does he perform all that for you 1 '
asked Guaird < In the following manner,' replied Marvan:
' when I return from the swine at night, and the skin is
torn off my feet by the briars of Gleann-a-Scail (Glen of the
Shadow), he comes to me and rubs his tongue all over my
feet, and though I should have all the surgeons and healing
ointments in the world, his tongue would cure me soonest;
in that manner he is a physician to me. He is a herd to

THE CHASTISEMENT OF THE BARDS. 20 r

me ; for when the swine wander through Gleann-a-Scail,
and that I am wearied, I touch him with my foot, and he
goes after the swine. There are nine passes leading into
Gleann-a-Scail, and there is no danger of any hog of them
being carried off by a thief, vagrant, or wolf of the forest,
until he drives in the very last hog of them. He is a musi-
cian to me ; for when I am anxious to sleep I touch him
with my foot, and he lies on his back, and sings me a cronan
(humming tune), and his music is more grateful to me than
that of a sweet- toned harp in the hands of an accomplished
minstrel. The blackbird is the most variable in his notes
of all birds, yet the boar is still more varied. It is hard
forme to kill that animal/ said Marvan, 'and do thou send
messengers for him, for I cannot kill him ; and I pledge
my word to you that I will pay a visit some day to the
mansion of the great bardic body, to be avenged on them
for the white boar, and may they never be the better for it !' "

And, indeed, either through the saint's implied wish, or
the natural working of evil, Muirrean having obtained all the
objects wished for, and being pleasantly employed jogging
away on the brown-maned and white- footed horse, with her
cuckoo on its ivy bush, and the belt of yellow lard encir-
cling her spider- webbed gown, fell from her steed, and met
her death from a fracture of the neck and a few of the ribs.

As if Guaire was not sufficiently annoyed by gratifying
such whims as these, Seanchan indulged in a sulky fit and
would take no food, but satirised the attendants that pre-
sented it. Finally, when he condescended to taste some-
thing, an egg was brought ; but, alas ! while it had been
left by the servant unwatched, before bringing it to table,
a mouse had gnawed a hole in the shell and sucked most of
its contents. Then it was that Seanchan's wrathful satire
scathed the palace mice so severely that a dozen crept out
of their holes into his presence, held up their miserable
paws, and died !

Still not appeased, he turned his great ire against the
cats for allowing the vermin to be in existence, and he sa-
tirised the whole feline tribe, including their king Irusan,
son of Arusan, who held court in the far-off cavern of
Knowth, on the Boyne. He felt the effect, but it only in-

202 THE BARDIC STORIES' OF IRELAND.

fused fury into his royal soul. Communicating his re-
vengeful intent to his Queen, " Sharp Tooth," daughter of
Queen " Fiery Mouth/' to the Princess " Sharp Tooth," and
the young Princes, the " Purrer," and the " Surly Fellow,"
he flew westw^ard, leaving directions for his sons to follow ;
and with glaring eyes, bare teeth and claws, and like a
bullock in size, he dashed in on Seanchan, though sur-
rounded by all the nobility of Conacht. Taking him by
one arm, he flung him on his back, and returning eastwards,
he crossed the Shannon, and was cantering leisurely through
the village of Clonmacnois, when he was espied by good St.
Kiaran, then occupied in his forge as a grimy blacksmith.
Shifting the cool end of the fiery bar into his right hand,
he made such a judicious and strong cast of the flame-
darting weapon that, entering the animal's body just behind
where Seanchan's inert weight lay and depended, it passed
through, and slew the enraged beast, and rescued the ill-
tempered bard from a terrible death.

"When the cup of the bardic arrogance and importunity
of the assembly was at Inst full, the justly resentful saint
came to the wooden building of the worthless sons of song ;
like a sighe gaoithe the doors flew open before him, and his
presence carried terror into their hearts. Endeavouring to
assume a false courage for the moment, they contended with
him in recondite questions and musical skill, but were totally
defeated, and obliged to submit to the terrible geasa he in-
flicted on them — to wit, that they should be deprived of
the poetic power, and never sleep two nights in the same
place till they obtained the full recital of the " Tain bo
Cuailgne," which the professor, the only one who knew it,
had carried away with him to Italy, written on squared
staves in choice oghuim.

With sorrowing hearts they broke up their encampment,
and leaving the women and the valets under the protection
of Guaire, the professors repaired to the palace of JSTaas,
where the king of Xorth Leinster resided. For him they
composed the one poem allowed them by St. Marvan, and
being furnished with a ship they sailed to Alba. There
they wandered through its length and breadth, and no bard
or scealuidhe could they find who remembered the "Tain."

THE CHASTISEMENT OF THE BARDS. 203

Tliey returned to Erinn in wretched plight, and presented
themselves before Marvan, who, now pitying their misery,
acquainted them that no living bard within Britain, Alba,
orErmn, knew the old heroic lay, and that their only chance
was to have the shade of Fergus, son of Roigh, summoned
from his resting-place. He was a principal actor in the
Great Cattle Spoil, and, moreover, a bard of high rank.
So the twelve apostles (bishops) of Ireland were assembled,
and St. Colum Cille summoned from the Hebrides, and they
sat round the cromlech of the buried chief for three days,
conjuring his spirit to appear and release the unfortunate
bards. At last the tomb opened, and the long-dead chief
arose, awful in arms as he once appeared to Conor's warriors.
"While the company remained sunk in solemn silence, he
commenced and repeated the long epic of the " Tain bo
Cuailgne," while St. Kiaran made a careful copy, and at its
conclusion the mighty shade vanished from all eyes. The
bards were released from their geasa, and their after de-
meanour exhibited a fair leaven of modesty.

By ''The Twelve Apostles of Ireland*' are meant the following
bishops, who held jurisdiction in the covmtry during portions of the
sixth century. These were : St. Brendan of Birr, who expired 29th
November, 571 ; St. Brendan of Ardfert, Co. Kerry (see above),
and of Clonfert, Co. Galway (a.d. 484-597) ; St. Cainech, patron of
Aghaboe, Queen's Co. (a.d. 515-S99); St. Ciaran of Clonmacnois,
who died a.d. 549 ; St. Colum Cille of Kells and lona, ad. 519-596 ;
St. Colum Mac Crimthain of Terry glas, Co. Tipperary, who died
A.D. 552 ; St. Comgall of Bangor, Co. Down, who died xoth May,
601 ; St. Finnen of Clonard, in Meath, who died a.d. 552 ; St.
Finnen of Moville, Co. Down, who died a.d. 576 ; St. Mobhi,
patron of Glasnaidhen (Glasnevin), who died 12 th October, 545 ;
St. Molaisi of Xadfraech, brother to Aongus, first Chi-istian King of
Munster, who died about a.d. 570 ; St. Nennius, patron of Inismac-
saint, Co. Fermanagh (was living a.d. 530) ; St. Euaan, patron of
Lothra, Co. Tipperary, whose death occurred on 15th April, 584.
The death of St. Canice of Kilkenny occurred A.D. 598 ; and that of
St. Kevin in 617, at the age of 120 years.

THE DESERTION OF TARA.
After the palace and hill of Teamur or Tara had been
distinguished by the residence of all the chief monarchs

204 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

from the days of the Danaans to the middle of the sixth
century, it was finally abandoned by Diarmuidh Mac Fer-
gus, the reigning Ard-Eigh ; and since then no royal enter-
tainment has been given, nor royal feis held in " Tara's
halls." This is the cause assigned in the annals of Clon-
macnois :

Diarmuidh was a prince of large ideas in matters of
hospitality and display, and in order that there should be
some analogy between the liberal style in which his house-
keeping was maintained at Tara, and that shown by the
princes and chiefs of his realm, he conceived the idea of
sending one of his runners through the length and breadth
of the land to carry his designs into effect. His envoy
bore a spear of the ordinary dimensions, and when he came
to dun or lios, into the door of which he could not enter
with the weapon set athwart his breast, he would not enter
till the inmates had broken down as much of the sides as
would afford free passage to bis weapon so held. After
disturbing a reasonable number of households in his pro-
gress, he arrived at a dun in Hy Maine in Conacht in the
chiefs absence. The opening not being sufficient, the hos-
pitable family had the sides broken down, and entertained
the king's representative in good style. The chief on his
return was troubled at the ruinous appearance of his en-
trance, and hearing the cause from the stupid or malicious
servant who first met him, he took it for a personal affront,
and being a man of hot temper, he hastened into his hall
and without waiting for explanation or parley, he thrust
his spear through the body of his guest and the envoy of
his sovereign.

The rash deed being done, and explanations heard, and
his passion cooled, he was seized by violent remorse. Fear
of his sovereign's resentment being added, he quitted his
dun and repaired to his brother St. Euaan, who governed
the monastery of Lothra in Ormond. He, for better se-
curity, sent him to the court of Wales, and there he re-
mained oppressed vnth. the deepest melancholy, Diar-
muidh hearing of the place of his retreat, despatched an
ambassador to his brother of Wales, inviting him to drive
the fugitive from his court, or be prepared for the dire.

THE DESERTION OF TAR A. 20^

effect of a refusal. The unhappy man not •u'illing to cause
further bloodshed, returned toLothra, and there Diarnmidh,
attended by a small retinue, came after some tune to se-
cure him. He paid but scant courtesy to the holy abbot,
and when the refugee could not be found, he set his follow-
ers at work to tear up the floor of the chapter-room where
St. Euaan received him. One of the searchers when rip-
ping up the flooring found his limbs paralyzed, but that
did not stay the eftbrts of the party.

At last the unfortunate man was discovered in a recess
beneath the floor, and carried away, the king declaring in
his anger that ablDot or monk should no more be heard of
or seen at Lothra, and that its walls should be levelled
from top to bottom.

Kext day when the king was at a feast with his nobles,
there entered the palace St. Euaan and his monks, and
coming to the king's presence, he demanded that his bro-
ther should be given up to him on payment of an eric of
thirty horses for the slain man. Diarmuidh indignantly
refused, and then the abbot and his religious went forth,
and when twilight fell, a hundred and fifty monks made
the circuit of the royal fortress, loudly chanting psalms by
the light of torches, and the abbot in his robes followed,
and uttered solemn denunciations against Teamur and its
possessors, and rung his antique bell, and prophesied that
from that time, king nor chief should rule in its halls. As
the inhabitants of the royal fort looked down and beheld
the long procession lit up by the torches, and heard the
loud intoning of the psalms, and the denunciations of the
saint, and the terrible tones that came from the bell, awe
and terror seized on their souls, and if the king had not
quitted the place very few days after, he would have been
left there without man-at-arms, without councillor, without
wife, without child. (He was now very ready to give up
his prisoner at the eric offered.) And from that time the
deserted courts gradually changed appearance till a huge
green mound is all that recalls the memory of the once
royal " Tara of the kings."

[ 206 ]

HOW BRANDUBH SAVED LEINSTER.

There is a piece of romantic history connected with the
once important town of Baltinglass, which, though onr pre-
sent collection does not aim at topographical or strict his-
torical information, must be allowed a place in it.

Caomusca, son of Aedh (Hugh) jNIac Ainmire, King of
Ireland, was a prince who had his passions under no re-
straint. He quitted his paternal stone Caisiol at Aileach
to make a circuit of Ireland, halting at the earthen or stone
fortresses of chiefs and princes, and treating their ^^dves as
his handmaids. AYe are not told whether he commenced
his system till he arrived, attended by four battalions of
rough men-at-mens, at the court of Brandubh (Black
Raven), King of Leinster, who held his provincial court
at Baltinglass. The master being absent for the moment,
the queen gave a hospitable reception to the worthless
prince. She was sufficiently indignant when he hinted his
wishes to her, but dissembling her feelings, she requested
a little leisure to look after the accommodation of his
retinue. Xot suspecting any serious objection on her part,
he readily gave permission, of which she so well availed
herself, that she effected her escape to her husband at Dun
Buiclit. He, returning with his heart full of resentment,
set fire to the separate house in which the royal reprobate
was lodged. He and his myrmidons rushed out and seve-
ral were slain. However, he escaped eastwards to Kilrane-
lagh, but the wrathful king kept on his traces, and coming
up with him at that hill, slew him and the few who had
held along with him.

Great was the wrath of Hugh at hearing the death of
his son. Collecting a large force he set out, and made no
halt till he entered the territory of Brandubh. He being
unable with his inferior number of fighting men to offer
battle, fortified himself in Eathbran, and sent his foster-
brother, St. Aidan, to treat of terms with the wrathful
invader. If eric would not be accepted he asked for an
armistice till he could collect his forces — a request fre-
quently complied with in the romantic annals of the coun-
try.

HOW BRANDUBH SAVED LEINSTER. 20/

But the fierce king would neither accept an eric, nor
grant a truce ; he even insulted the holy man who had
come to treat with him. So the Lemster king sent mes-
sengers in all directions to summon his petty chiefs to come
to his aid, and at their head he had the good fortune to
capture a body of allies, on their march to join Ainmire.
He next approaclied with a few trusty followers as near the
royal camp as prudence allowed, with the object of learning
his enemy's arrangements. The thing which chiefly caught
his attention, at least that which the poet historians thought
most striking and picturesque, was the appearance of the
banners of the O'Neills and O'Donnells, and other northern
tribes, floating and fluttering here and there at the tops of
the tall spears, and having the appearance of birds of
various colours hovering over the encampment.

A spy sent into Hugh's camp admirably seconded the
designs of Brandubh. He stained his skin to resemble that
of a leper, and came in limping before the king, complain-
ing of Brandubh's people, who had burned his cabin, and
little chapel, and his farming implements. He also told
him in confidence that the inhabitants of the surrounding
country, feeling the badness of their king's cause, and
Avishing to propitiate his ( Ainmire's ) good disposition
towards them, were employed collecting provisions, which
they would privately send into his camp the next night but
one, by a certain pass.

All this was very pleasant to the Ard-Eigh. He pro-
mised the leper ample recompense for the loss he had sus-
tained, and waited impatiently next day for the fall of
night. In order to guard against treachery, he stationed
a strong body of armed men at the pass, who would give
the alarm and prevent the approach of the visitors if any-
thing of a suspicious character was noticed.

After darkness had come down on the glens, the guards
stationed in the defile heard the trampling of along column
of men and beasts approaching from the open country.
They prepared to receive the advancing party with their
sharp weapons, but nothing more threatening met their
eyes than quiet oxen and restless horses, each led by an un-
armed man, and bearing large hampers or skins on each side

208 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

apparently filled with liquor. The skins on some of tlie
foremost of the beasts were taken down, and left with the
guards to refresh them, while the rest of the long file pro-
ceeded in the direction of the camp. Swift runners had
sped before them, so the king and his people were ready to
give them a welcome reception. As they approached the
camp a considerable appearance of restlessness became evi-
dent among the animals, and the dull sounds of trampling
hoofs, and the grating and clashing of hard bodies against
each other came to the ears of its occupiers. All at once a
great light was shed on the scene from the summit of a
small eminence outside the camp ; a troop of horses mad-
dened by bags of small stones fastened to their tails were
rushing madly through the crowds disposed at the edge of
the camp to receive the provisions, and a countless number
of fully armed warriors just released from the skins and
hampers, and aided by the conductors of the animals, were
rushing on the unsuspecting occupiers of the camp, with
swords and spears, and wildly yelling their peculiar war
cries. All that resisted were slaughtered, and not for some
time could Cjuarter be obtained. The spy, a son of the
chief of Imail, having provided himself with arms, encoun-
tered and slew King Hugh, and after the fight was over,
presented his head to Brandubh.

Thus was the Province of Leinster saved from the fury
of an enraged king and the insolence of his troops by the
wisdom and courage of its prince. The invasion and the
capture of the camp took place a.d. 594. The place after-
wards bore the name of Dunbolg (Fort of the Bags) from
the articles used in the attack, and at present bears the
name of Dunboyke. Excursionists will find it in the
neighbourhood of Hollywood. Such of our readers as we
have interested in the district of the Duffrey will not be
well pleased to hear that the warden of Senboitli (old huts,
now Templeshanbo) slew the gallant Brandubh in an in-
surrection, A.D. 601.

The derivation of the name " Baltinglass " is thus given by the late
Mr. O'Curry. Cu Glas (Gray Dog), son of Donn Desa, King of Lein-
ster, and master of the hoimds to Conaire Mor, King of Ireland, (say

THE FIGHT AT MOYRA. 2 Op

50 A.c.) once followed the chase to the hill which rises near the little
town. There hunter and hounds disappeared in a cavern, and nothing
more was heard of them. The cave ever after bore the name, — Uaiv
Belaich Conglais, — "The cavern of the road of Cu Glas." Baltin so
closely resembling Bealtine, " Beal's Fire," led to the belief that the
little town got its name from the pagan festival in honour of the sun,
celebrated on May eve. This is probably the true origin of the name.

THE FIGHT AT MOYRA.

DoNALL, son of that Hugh who was slain at Dunholg, and
sixth in descent from *' Niall of the Hostages," obtained the
crown of Ireland, a.d. 6^^, about forty years after the death
of his father, the last intruder, Suivne Maen, having been
killed by Conall Claen of oblique vision, with whom we
shall presently make acquaintance. Tara being interdicted
as a royal residence, Donall made for himself a strong fort
on the south side of the Boyne (near Dowth), and named
it Dun na-n-Gaedh (Fort of the Darts). One night he
dreamed that his favourite hound Feargloun sprung from
his knee in rage and fury, gathered a crowd of fierce dogs
from Erinn, Britain (Wales), Saxonland, and Alba, and
held battle and conflict with himself and his forces for seven
days, and then he and the chief dogs of his army perished.
This dream disturbed him, and his sage brother who had
laid by an earthly crown to devote himself to a religious
life, did not afford him much comfort by his explanation.
" You entertain in your court two foster sons, viz. Cothach
Caev, King of Conacht, and Congal Claen, King of Ulster.
One of these will act as the dog in your dream. But my
advice is this, invite all the great of Erinn to a feast, take
hostages of every king and chief, and keep under watch and
ward your two foster-sons for a year ; then dismiss them
with valuable presents. The venom of every dream is
powerless if it is not fulfilled within the twelvemonth."
" K all the men of Erinn were to rise against me," said
Donall, " Congal would not. I shall give the entertain-
ment, but put no one under restraint."

So the feast was announced, and the stewards, and the

H

210 THE BAEDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

rent-collectors, and the law-givers (!) were directed to ga-
ther in all kinds of choice food and choice drinks — wine,
mead, and ale ; and as goose eggs were scarce at the time,
to make as good a provision of them as could be done.
Some collectors passing near a little hermitage on the Boyne,
saw a flock of geese outside, and entering, they found a
basket full of their eggs. " Good fortune is in our way,"
said they. " These will be a great furthering to the feast ;"
but they were answered by a woman with a black hood on
her head, whom they found within praying. " It is bad
fortune they will bring with them," said she. " The holy
Bishop Ere of Slane spends the day in the Boyne with the
water up to his armpits, while he xeads his offices from liis
breviary on the bank. All his daily food is only an egg
and a half, and three sprigs of water cress. If you deprive
the saint of that small nourishment, bad luck wiU attend
you and your employers." But they were plebeians, and
carried off the basket.

When the holy patron of Slane came home in the even-
ing, the woman told him what had occurred, and he said ;
" It will not be good luck to the person to whom this kind
of food is brought, and the peace and welfare of Erinn will
not result from the banquet to which it is added, but quar-
rels, contentions, and commotions, will be the consequence
to her," — and so it proved.

Before the feast commenced, a man and woman, fearful to
behold, entered the hall of feasting, bearing a basket of eggs
between them. " We come," said they, " with our offering
for the royal meal, and are therefore worthy of being enter-
tained." They placed before them food .sufficient for a
hundred people, and this the man ate up without sharing
a mouthful with the woman. They then laid down food
for a hundred again, and the woman consumed it without
help from the man. Then was a third quantity equally
great placed before them, and after eating it they asked for
more. " By my hand," said the steward, " you get no more
here," and they answered in anger: "Evil attends the feast
of which we first partake : we belong to Infernus,'' and they
vanished.

Before the company entered the hall, the king sent his

THE FIGHT AT MOYRA. 2 I I

foster son, Congal, to look at the order and the quantity,
and to give him his opinion. The prince was delighted
with everything he saw ; and the arrangement and the sight
of the eggs so pleased him that he ate a portion of one, and
returned to his foster father, and gave him much pleasure
with his praise of the food and the mode in which every-
thing was arranged. But just then word was brought to
Donall, how the hermitage was robbed, and what the holy
bishop had said. •' If no one has brokon or tasted an egg,"
said he, "ill-luck may be "kept at a distance." But Congal
mentioned what he had done, and his grieved foster father
sent for the " Twelve Apostles of Erinn" to bless the feast
and avert the impending curse. The apostles did come and
bless the feast, and it would have been blessed had none of
the eggs been broken. "But it was not so, and the curse
opened its black wings over the table.

The seats were soon filled, and kings and chiefs ate, and
drank, and were merry, and then a goose egg on a silver
dish was laid before every guest ; but when Congal Claen
touched his, lo ! it became the small egg of a red-feathered
hen, and it was on a wooden trencher it rested. He would
not have taken offence but for the outcry made by his tried
follower, Gair Gann Mac Sthugawn, against the supposed
affront. Eoused to anger, he was rushing to where the
king sat, to make his complaint, but being stopped by the
steward, he ran him through with his sw^ord.

This Congal, in order to clear the way to the throne for
his foster father, had assaulted the late King Suivne Maen
while playing chess before his stone fortress at Aileach
(see before), and transfixed him with his javelin. Suivne,
though wounded to death, flung a chess man at his mur-
derer, and knocked out one of his eyes. For this deed
Donall replaced him in his government of Ulster, but kept
back a district or two. Congal, while standing before the
Ard-Eigh, in fierce resentment enumerated his services and
his losses, and quitted the assembly in wrath. The king
was urged to punish him for the outrageous insult, but he
only listened to his indulgent feelings towards his foster
son. He sent the apostles after him, he sent the poets after
him : but he would not hear of a reconciliation from these o^

14*

212 THE BARDIC STORIES OP IRELAND.

those. He collected forces in Alba, Britain, and Saxonland,
and at Magh Eath (Moyra), in Down, lie fought against his
foster father's forces for seven days, slaying many a strong
and skilful swordsman, till he met destruction from the hand
of the loyal and unselfish Ceallach. In the volume of the
Irish Archseological Society (1842), entitled "The Banquet
of Dun na n-Gedh (Fort of Goose-eggs), and The Battle of
Magh Rath," is given a long succession of single fights and
other incidents, for two only of which can room be afforded.
One is the madness of Suivne, son of Ciar, who being seized
on by mortal terror in the midst of the slaughter, escaped
by mighty bounds from the battle field, and after much
wandering, came to Teagh Moling (St. Moling' s house), in
the southern angle of the county of Carlow, and was there
slain by a herdsman.

The second very remarkable incident thus occurred : —
A warrior named Ceannfaelad possessed a brain, a portion
of which being injured in some way, he was not able to
retain anything in his memory. An ill-intended but most
lucky stroke of a sword breaking his skull, out gushed the
diseased portion of brain, the warrior's intellect was fully
restored, and the mere fracture was put to rights at St.
Bricinn's house in Tuam Drecain. There he daily attended
a school of classics, a school of law, and a school of philo-
sophy, and such were the recovered powers of his memory,
that he made a poetic resume every night of what he had
heard in the day, and committed it to vellum.

Historic belief is requested for the fact of Congal's taking offence, for
his procuring foreign aid, for his exhibiting rare prudence, patience, and
ability in effecting that object, and for his well-merited defeat and de-
struction. The nameless author of the little epic has not quoted his
authorities for the marvellous incidents in the narrative ; so everyone
must consult his own judgment as to belief or disbelief in their
occurrence.

THE DEATH OF THE WICKED THORGILS.

Towards the end of the ninth century this Danish poten-
tate had obtained much power in the country, his head-

THE DEATH OF THE WICKED THORGILS. 213

quarters being in Dublin, For the sake of having the
nominal king, Maolseachluin (St. Seachnal's follower) or
Malachi, better under his control, he built himself a strong
stone fort near the native royal residence in Meath. He
invited himself occasionally to partake the hospitality of
the native king, and on the last of these occasions the sen-
sual old Dane, somewhat exalted in liquor, was so struck
with the appearance of the young princess, that he proposed
in a confident and friendly tone to her father to make her
his chief mistress. The unfortunate monarch, if he had
followed his first impulse, would have made the point of
his leaf-shaped sword acquainted with the heart's blood of
the half- drunk tyrant; but prudence and a project which
at the moment entered his head, kept his hand quiet.
" Your ofi'er," said he, " does our family honour ; but as the
thing, if done with the knowledge of our neighbours, would
ever prevent my daughter from getting a husband, either
prince or chief, you will allow me to send her with her
fifteen lady- attendants to your castle under cover of the
next moonless night, and be sure to let all return before
the day begins to dawn." " That I will, and bring in the
meanwhile fifteen of my most valued chiefs to entertain the
beauteous damsels, for beauteous they surely are."

That night at a later hour did Malachi hold serious
counsel with his daughter and her betrothed, one of his
most trusted young flaiths.

Fifteen Danish chiefs from Dublin were in Thorgill's
castle on the appointed night, and a banquet awaited the
arrival of the princess and her ladies when darkness would
be set in. At last the watchers heard the sound of feet,
they opened the strong door, and sixteen ladies, waited on
by six strong retainers, filed in. Leave had been given for
the admission of this body-guard, whose duty it would be
to conduct their charge in safety home again. These men
staid with the sentinels, who had been directed to give them
good entertainment.

Very cordially were the visitors received by the host and
his chiefs, and much time was not lost till all were engaged
on the viands. The Northmen, as was their wont, drank
freely, but the ladies had to be pressed to take even a

214 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

moderate quantity. Everything earthly must have an end.
The king mentioned to the chief attendant that he and his
assistants would be no longer needed, and when they retired
he called for silence till he would give a toast. He began
it, but it was never concluded, for as each Dane seized on
his goblet, every youth drew from under the female garb
that covered his breast a sharp, well-tempered skian, and
the next moment it was stuck to the haft in the breast of
his neighbour, and the bodies of fifteen dead or dying strong
men were encumbering the ground.

Up sprung Thorgils, and round him in a ring gathered
the fierce young men. Nothing daunted, though incum-
bered with drink and years, he would have engaged them
all, but the princess's betrothed bade them hold their hands.
To him the unprincipled old reprobate had offered an insult
not to be forgiven, and by his hand he should be punished.
They engaged, and the fiery youth soon felt that he had to
do with a master in the strife of arms. Space was cleared
for the struggle, and pitiable was the state of the princess
as she beheld her knight, though displaying more skill and
strength than could be expected, every moment in danger
of receiving a deadly wound. With eyes distended, lips
apart, and hands clenched, she surveyed every turn of the
fight till, as the struggle approached the table, she uttered
a wild scream, for the hand of one of the dying men made
a grasp at the foot of the young chief. The rapid move-
ments of the combatants, however, disappointed the expec-
tations of the Dane. It was the foot of Thorgils that was
seized, and down came the colossal frame, and lay helpless
on the flag. " Kill him not," said his adversary. " Bind
liim hand and foot. He shall taste the bitterness of death
tenfold when under the gaze of the thousands whose lives
he and his relentless subordinates have rendered wretched."

The noise had brought some of the attendants to the
door, and these seeing the floor encumbered with the dead
bodies of the chiefs, the fierce looking ladies each grasping
a bright sword, and the extremity to which the king was
brought, shouted for succour. On rushed to the rescue
members of the garrison, but ere they reached the scene of
strife, they had to turn to defend their own lives. Shouts

THE DEATH OF THE WICKED THORGILS. 215

and the rushing tramp of assaulters admitted by the six
men were heard at the entrance of the fortress, and a des-
perate but short conflict ensued between the inmates and
the overpowering force led by King Malachi. Quarter
was neither expected nor asked, and not a Scandinavian,
Thorgils excepted, was alive at sunrise.

The princess's betrothed took little part in the conflict.
He had no fear for the issue of the fray, and his full care
was needed by the state into which mortal terror for his
life had thrown her.

Like wild-fire the glorious news sped through Erinn on
the ensuing day, inspiring the natives with joy and courage,
and the cruel intruders with dismay. Everywhere the
natives rose, defeats and slaughters succeeded, and for a
time the foreign influence was crushed. Thorgils, after ex-
periencing the most acute mortification from exposure to
the regards of the people to whom he had dealt nothing
but cruelty and injustice, was flung into the depths of Loch
Annin. The princess and her brave young hero were made
happ)'-, and for a season their country enjoyed the blessings
arising from peace and good government.

THE FORTUNES OF QUEEN GORMFLAITH.
The learned Cormac of Cashel (end of ninth century) was
affianced to the beautiful and accomplished Gormflaith (pr.
Gormlay, blue eyed Lady) daughter of Elann Siona, King
of Ireland. However, the betrothed prince feeling an im-
perative call to a sacerdotal life, resigned the union, en-
tered into holy orders, and became in time Bishop as well
as King of Cashel. Neither father nor daughter felt com-
plimented by this proceeding, and in some time the re-
jected princess unwillingly married Cearval, King of Lein-
ster, at her father's command. This prince, who was more
or less brutal and selfish, could not bear comparison with
the noble-minded and learned prince of Cashel, who would
willingly enough have been her husband but for the higher
call. It is a pity that he had not known his mind sooner.
In the year 903, Elann incited by his son-in-law asserted

21 6 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

his right to the presentation of the ancient church of Main-
isther Eihhin (Monastery of Evin, a disciple of St. Patrick),
now Monasterevan. Cormac resisted his claim, and the
united forces of Flann and Cearval encountered his at Bea-
lach Mughna (Woody or Marshy Pass, Ballymoon), in the
extreme southern angle of the county of Kildare. In the
fight the bishop-king was flung from his horse, slain, and
"beheaded, and his forces routed. Cearval being badly
wounded, was borne to his royal residence at Naas, where
he was afiectionately attended by his wife.

One day, during his convalescence, he began with much
animation to relate to a large company the circumstances of
the late fight. He described with so much complacency
and want of feeling the death and dismemberment of the
hapless Cormac, that the tender-souled queen gently expos-
tulated with him. This Httle check so irritated him that
he flung the poor lady on the ground, disordering her dress
in the brutal assault, and thus disgracing her, as far as in
him lay, in the eyes of her dependents.

She at once quitted his house, and repaired to her father,
who was restrained from punishing the dastardly outrage
by the presence of a powerful Danish force in Dublin ; he
even induced her to return to Naas. But the news had
reached the ears of her cousin. Prince Niall Glundubh
(Black Knee), son of the king of Ulster, who collecting the
noi-thern clans marched to the borders of Cearval' s territory,
and threatened it with all the horrors of fire and sword, if
ample amends were not made for the queen's wrongs, and
herself left at full liberty to live where she pleased. At her
own intercession he staid his hand, she only claiming her
dowry, liberty to live in her father's palace, and release
from all conjugal ties.

These demands being complied with, she returned to her
paternal home in Meath, with very grateful feelings towards
her chivalrous relative. He, however, was not content with
these sentiments, however warm. He was a genuine Celt,
and nothing less than a wife's love would satisfy him.
Cearval' s savage conduct had, in his eyes, thoroughly loosed
the marriage tie, and his loved and loving partner she should
be. However, neither the Gospel nor the Canon Law

THE FORTUNES OF QUEEN GORMFLAITH. 21 7

would allow of her being the wife of two living husbands.
She remained at home, and he was obliged to lay in a stock
of such patience as was to be procured.

Next year, however, Cearval being slain in a fight with
the Danes of Dublin, all impediments were removed, and
she became the happy consort of Niall, one of the bravest
and most patriotic princes that ever wielded sword. In
914 he succeeded to his father-in-law as Ard-Eigh, and,
before and after, never ceased battling with the Danes, and
doing everything which wisdom and valour could effect for
the weal of his people. He and his brave father, Hugh
Finnliath, were the only northern princes who, before the
efforts of Brian Borumha, ever took effective steps to expel
the foreigners from Munster.

The Danes, being dislodged from their various strong-
holds, concentrated their strength in Dublin, and thither
marched the king with all his available strength, to try
a decisive conflict with them. It appears that their forces
outnumbered his, for they did not seek defence within
walls or ships. A terrible and fatal battle was fought at a
place anciently called Cill Mosomog, (between Rathfarnham
and Dundrum), and the native forces completely defeated;
Niall and most of his chiefs, including his wife's eldest
brother, Conor, being left dead on the field.

Donncha, Gormflaith's younger brother, succeeded, and
reigned till the year 943. At his death the sceptre passed
out of the hands of his family, and his widowed sister suf-
fered privations during the remainder of her life. "During
her last illness" (we quote Mr. O'Curry) "she wrote along
and curious poem on her own life and misfortunes. In it
she described the death of her son, who was accidentally
drowned in the county Galway during his fosterage, the
subsequent death of her husband, an interesting account of
her mode of living, a sketch of the more happy part of her
life, a character of Niall, of Cearval, and of Cormac, a de-
scription of the place and mode of sepulture of Niall, and
on the whole, a greater variety of references to habits,
customs, and manners than I have found in any other piece
of its kind. I have, besides this, other stray verses of hers,
composed under a variety of impulses and circumstances."

2 1 8 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

The ailment of wMcli she died was brought "on in a singu-
lar manner. The circumstances are related in the Annals
of Olonmacnois, of which we have only the translation, made
in the year 1627, by Connla Mac Echagan of Lismoyne
(the fort in the bog), in the county of Westmeath, for
Turlogh Mac Coghlan, lord of Delvin, in the same county.
The following extract presents a good specimen of the ren-
dering of the original Gselic.

" Gormphley, daughter of King Flann Mac Mayleseach-
lyn (monk of Saint Sechnal), and queen of Ireland, died of
a tedious and grievous wound, which happened in this
manner. She dreamed that she saw King Niall Glunduffe;
whereupon she got up, and sat in her bed to behold him,
whom he for anger would forsake, and leave the chamber ;
and as he was departing in that angry motion (as she
thought) she gave a snatch after him, thinking to have
taken him by the mantle to keep him with her, and fell
upon the bedstick of her bed, that it pierced her breast,
which received no cure till she died thereof.^'

During her subsequent illness, which was a tedious one,
she composed that poem mentioned by Mr. O'Curry. It
is probable that her circumstances between the death of
her brother, a.d. 943, and her own, five years later, were
not 60 wretched as is generally supposed. Looking with
poetic ejQS back to her happy life with Niall, and con-
trasting it with her present lonely state, she probably ex-
aggerated the discomforts of her present condition.

This narrative is given in the Booh of Leimter and the Annals of
Clonmacnois.

THE FIGHT IN DUNDALK BAY.

About a.d. 960, Donoch son of Flann Siona, being king of
Ireland, and Ceallaghan king of Munster, Sitric the Danish
king of Dublin decided on the death or captivity of the last
named, he had brought such destruction on the foreigners
of Waterford and Limerick, and other maritime cities. He

THE FIGHT IN DUNDALK BAY. 2 1 9

t]ms endeavoured to carry out his design. He sent an em-
bassy to the Munster king, expressing his wish to enter into
bonds of friendship and family aUiance with him, offering
him the hand of his virtuous and accomplished sister in
marriage. The fame of the young lady's beauty and merits
had already reached Cashel, and Ceallaghan not only ac-
cepted the offer with pleasure, but set out for Dublin to
celebrate the nuptials as soon as he could make the neces-
sary preparations.

When Sitric learned one evening that he was within a
few miles of the city he gleefully entertained his own wife,
an Irish lady, and his sister, with the plot he had laid, and
the immediate capture of the chief foe of himself and his
countrymen. He did not succeed in infusing his own bitter
feelings into the breasts of the true women. One had seen
the noble and chivalrous prince, and was his countrywoman,
the other could not help feeling a lively interest in one who
was in such peril on her account. They held a council,
and next morning, ^Ceallaghan, as he was entering Kilmain-
ham, learned the plot from Sitric' s consort, who had pro-
ceeded thither in disguise, and with but a couple of atten-
dants. Eagerly thanking his kind friend, he and his fol-
lowing began to retrace their steps, butw^ere soon intercep-
ted by an overpowering force who had stationed themselves
in ambush. Many lives were lost on both sides, but in the
end Ceallaghan and Donnchuan son of Ceneidigh (Kennedy,
king elect of Munster and father of Brian), were seized, and
sent for greater security to Armagh.

Kennedy hearing of the misfortunes of Ceallaghan and
of his own son, immediately raised all the men possible,
marched at the head of the land forces to Armagh, and des-
patched a small fleet round to the eastern coast. As the
army approached Armagh, the captives were sent thence,
and secured in the Danish fleet l^'ing in the bay of Dundalk,
and soon the Munster men had the chagrin of beholding
their own small naval force engaging the foreigners at every
disadvantage. The torture of helplessly looking on while
their dear comrades were waging an unequal strife, can
scarcely be conceived.

Failve Finn, the Irish admiral, attacked and boarded the

220 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

Danish ship -where Ceallaghan and Donnchuan were bound
to the masts, and where Sitric commanded. Boarding the
vessel he cut down all that opposed his way, freed the cap-
tives, urged Ceallaghan to go and take command of his own
ship, and fought on. Alas ! he was in the end overpowered
and hewed in pieces ; but his place was taken by a comrade
worthy of him. This was Fionngall, who, after making
terrible slaughter and seeing that escape to his own vessel
was out of the question, seized Sitric by the body and
sprung with him over the bulwarks. A cry of horror arose
from the Danes, but a still more terrible cry pierced the
clouds, when two other captains, Segda and Conall, following
the example gripped Torr and Magnus, Sitric' s two brothers,
and flung themselves into the water with them. The ap-
palling sight and the loss of their commanders so unnerved
the foreigners, that the day went against them, and the
landsmen, who till now had been walking to and fro in
feverish agitation, had soon the joy of embracing their brave
brothers in arms.

The authorities we have consulted are silent on the sub-
ject of the ensuing marriage of Ceallaghan with the young
Danish princess, but on our own authority as Sceabdghe we
decide on its having taken place, and with the happiest
results.

THE LEINSTER COW-TRIBUTE.

As we are approaching the era of " Brian of the Tribute "
(Emperor of the Scots, as he is styled in the Book of Ar-
magh), it is requisite to mention the cause of the original
imposition of that unfortunate burden, placed on the shoul-
ders of the unoffending Leinster people, for the unaccount-
able wickedness of their king, Achy Aincheann, while
Moran the Just was directing the councils of Thual the
Acceptable (middle of the first century). That bad sped •
men of a Leinster prince, presenting himself at the court
of Tara, so pleased the Ard-Kigh and the Ard-Righ's
youngest daughter, the fair Dairinne, that a marriage was
concluded, and a few weeks later the young pair proceeded

THE LEINSTER COW-TRIBUTE. 221

to Achy's royal dun at Naas. In time the fickle king, be-
coming tired of his spouse, or being persuaded that he
would have done better by wedding the elder princess,
Fithir, confined his queen in a remote part of his fortress,
got a mock funeral performed, and after a respectable period
of mourning, paid a second visit to Tara. i\Iarriage with a
deceased wife's sister not being prohibited in the old Bre-
hon code, and Aincheann earnestly and affectionately suing
for the society of the lovely Fithir, to console him in his
bereavement, the second marriage was solemnized, and
Fithir accompanied her husband to his home. Ah ! what
was her dismay and terror, shortly after her instalment in
her new grianan, when sitting beside her false lord, the door
opened, and Dairinne (having somehow escaped) entered,
all pale and sickly-looking, and everything about her beto-
kening wretchedness ! Fithir was at the moment attacked
by such conflicting and such bitter and painful feelings,
that her vital powers forsook her, and she expired. Her
unfortunate sister did not survive her many minutes.

The enraged monarch on hearing of the double tragedy,
invaded the province with fire and sword ; and it was only
on the assurance of receiving the triennial tribute set down
below, that he consented to stay his hand. The enforce-
ment of this demand caused many a bloody conflict down
to the days of Brian. He exacted it on account of the aid
continually afforded to the Danes by the Leinster king.

This Boroimhe Laighean consisted of bronze vessels,
ounces of silver, cloaks, fat cows, fat wethers, and fat hogs
— five thousand of each.

THE WAR-PATH TO CLONTARF.

The patriotic and valiant Brian having quelled the power
of the Danes, was minded to build war-galleys to be able
to meet the Sea Kings on their own element. With this
view he invited all the kings and chiefs of Erinn to send
him the noblest trees in their dominions to help on the
good work. Maelmordha, king of Leinster, and brother-

222 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

in-law to Brian, eager to gratify his great relative, got cut
down three of the finest oaks in Fidh Gaibhli (King's Co.),
and intrusted their carriage westwards to three of his fa-
vourite tribes. At the ascent of a boggy pass, the bearers
of the stout trunks not having room to advance side by side,
began to dispute for precedence, and the Leinster king
coming up at the moment, alighted from his horse and set
his royal shoulder under the trunk, borne by the O'Faelans.
In this spirited action the brooch which held his silken
vest at the throat, a present from Brian, burst from its
fastening, and could not be found. After their arrival at
Kinkora, and their gracious reception by King Brian,
Maelmordha spoke apart with his sister, Gormflaith, men-
tioned the accident, expressed his sorrow for having lost
his brother-in-law's gift, and requested her to get it replaced
by another from the same quarter. The lady, a haughty,
unprincipled dame as ever existed, reproached her brother
for his want of spirit,, flatly refused the request, and relieved
her outraged family importance by plucking the garment
from his shoulders, and flinging it into the fire.

This incident gave an unpleasant turn to the current of
thought and sentiment in the soul of the Leinster king, and
his loyal feelings suff'ered a complete change by another in-
cident close following on the family conference. Being
engaged by-and-by looking on at a game of chess being
played by the prince of Conacht and Conning, one of Brian's
nephews, he gave to the first-mentioned a hint which won
the game for him. Conning, bursting into a passion and
looking sternly on him, exclaimed, "Ai, had you given the
Danes such good advice at Gleann Mamra (near Dunlavin)
they would not have fled before my father." " Perhaps,"
said the enraged Maelmordha, " I may yet give them such
effective advice as may change the present state of rule in
Erinn," " Leinster loyalty all over ! " retorted the prince,
as the off'ended man withdrew.

On a little reflection he began to dread the probable effect
of his disloyal speech, and becoming apprehensive for his
personal safety, he quietly quitted the court and directed
his steps eastwards. Brian on learning the above facts was
much chagrined at the treatment received by a visitor in

THE WAR-PATH TO CLONTARF. 223

his house, and despatched his swiftest messenger to over-
take the king, apologise, and induce him to return to receive
personal excuses, and have the matter amicably settled.
The envoy came up with him on the eastern bank of the
river, but before he could deliver his message in full, the
resentful prince, forgetting princely manners, struck him
violently on the head ; so the man returned to the palace
covered with blood. The youthful portion of the court were
for pursuing him, and administering chastisement for such
unprovoked arrogance and insolence, but their counsels
were overruled by the prudent king. " We are not free
from blame," said he, " and the laws of hospitality must
not be violated."

Maelmordha, on his return to Leinster, entered into a
strict treaty with the Danes, both foreign and naturalised,
and on Good Friday, a.d. 1014, the decisive and glorious
battle of Clontarf was fought. The circumstances of this
memorable fight are generally well known, so their omission
here is of the less consequence.

THE LAST LORD OF CAPPA.

At the base of the Galties on a hillock of granite, are the
remains of the Castle of William de Burgo. This domestic
tragedy is connected with it.

William de Burgo and his lady occupied this castle of
Cappa Uniac. One day, following the chase further than
usual, he met with his brother Richard, who owned a still
larger domain in the neighbourhood, and unthinkingly in-
vited him to spend a week with him at Cappa. He recol-
lected next moment that hi"s wife bore a mortal hatred to
this brother, and bitterly lamented his rashness.

On his return, he mentioned to his lady what he had
done, and besought her to give Eichard a kindly welcome ;
but she became furious, and vowed that no part of Eichard
but his head should ever enter the castle, with her consent.
He might then have sent letter or messenger to his brother
with an apology, but he was of an undecided disposition.

224 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

He waited to the very day for some lucky thing to turn up,
but he had the chagrin to see the gate closed and the draw-
bridge raised by his wife's orders, as Kichard and his atten-
dants, hawks on hands, and dogs in leashes, were nearing
the building.

" Ah, wretch !" said he, " is it thus you receive me, after
your friendly invitation ? I will return in three days, and
woe be to you if I do not find the gates opened." He did
return, and finding them in the same state, defied William
to mortal combat by the mouth of his herald. This was
another heart-scald to the good-intentioned man ; but his
lady told him she would quit his castle, and never re-enter
it if he refused the challenge.

He did accept it, was slain, and his head flung over the
wall by his resentful brother. This humbled the fierce lady.
She sold the estate, dismissed her servitors, retired to a
convent, and endured unheard-of penances till her death.
The little hill on which the castle stood got the name of
the " Mound of the Last William."

THE LEGEND OF MAC CORISH.

In the partly ruined building of Castle Lake on the western bank
of the Suir, about two and a-half miles from the Rock of Cashel, is
yet preserved a very rude representation in iron of a horse and his
rider. It is about a couple of feet in height, and has been kept in
the building from some unknown period. A dwelling house is at-
tached to the ruin, and the people of the neighbourhood say that
one of the clauses of the lease of the grounds in which the castle
stands, requires the tenant to see to the safe custody of the relic, and
never allow it to be removed from the premises. Some fatality is
sure to occur if Mac Corish is left out of doors during the night.
This undesirable event took place on two occasions at some not very
remote periods, and the dreaded results followed. During one of the
nights a terrible storm prevailed for many mUes around, and some
calamity, whose nature we have not been fortunate enough to ascer-
tain, did not fail to visit the family, or at all events the neighbour-
hood, on the second occasion also.

Our informant was born in the neighourhood of the castle, and has
seen and handled the Mac Corish more than once. Being of an
inquiring incredulous turn (incredulous, to wit, on the subject of
spirits being unprovided with better organs of speech than mahogany

THC LEGEND OF MAC CORISH. 12'')

tables), he suspects the iron effigy to be neither more nor less than
one of the fire-dogs useful in the great chunney-pieces of old halls,
when logs of wood supplied warmth to the large room. Be this as
it may, the following are the circumstances told by the people of that
neighbourhood in connection with The Legend of Mac Corish.

At some period A^ery far back, but how many hundred
years no one knows, a chief or gentleman, named ^fac
Corish, lived in this castle, and owned a wide extent of
the lands around. He could not properly be called a cruel
man, but he was intensely proud and Avrathful, and thought
nothing of taking human life when these darling passions
of his were strongly excited. He was tall, and strong, and
skilful at all weapons ; and during the course of a stormy
youth and middle age, he had killed several gentlemen in
chance-medley brawls or in duels. It was rather strange
that he should have lived to see his fiftieth year ; but al-
though the slave of his passions, and nearly destitute of
devotional feeling, he was possessed of some good qualities.
He was kind and courteous to his domestics, labourers, and
tenants, and the common people in general ; and several of
the encounters in which he had been engaged were caused
by the representations of friends or followers, of wrong or
insult received at the hands of some overbearing or tyran-
nical neighbour.

His great popularity among the middle and lower classes
was a shield against private resentment and legal prosecu-
tion, especially as — revenge indulged in cold blood not
being among his faults — the crime of murder never came
to be imputed to him. As he advanced in life he found
the number of acquaintances, of his own or a higher rank,
much diminished. Very few coveted the intimacy of one
" whose passion was so near him," and whose self-estima-
tion was so sensitive ; and at last he saw, or wished to see,
the faces of none but those of his own household, or the
tenants who rented his lands, and who, while they loved
him for his easy indulgence and his readiness to take their
parts in all causes, right or wrong, shivered to their very
marrow at the sight of his frown, or the sound of his voice,
in his occasional fits of anger.

'5

2 26 THE BARDIC STORIES OF IRELAND.

These circumstances, joined to a natural taste for agri-
cultural pursuits, led to his continual occupation in the
management of the fields that lay round the castle. His
operations were seldom successful owing to his impatience.
It was a torment to him to witness the imperceptible ad-
vance of vegetation, and of young cattle to maturity ; and
bad weather always called forth the worst features of his
disposition. His irritable impatience was probably much
strengthened by a morbid condition of nerves, and had
become a disease through the absence of religious influence,
and his yielding in every instance to his impatient, resent-
ful, or angry impulses, without an attempt at self-restraint.

During some unfavourable days in the hay- season he was
kept in a state of the most miserable agitation by the un-
certainty of saving the product of a fine meadow that lay
between the castle and the river. After a very troubled
night he was most agreeably surprised by a glorious fore-
noon, and vigorously did he toil with his crowd of assistants,
and much did he exult, till, towards one o'clock in the
afternoon, a heavy shower came down, and drove all inside
the castle. His family and domestics suffered much during
the next three quarters of an hour, witnessing the agitated
state in which he paced his hall, muttering and uttering
imprecations. On a sudden the clouds parted, the sun
shone, and all rushed out to resume their labours. Mac
Corish was at their head ; but scarcely had the eager troop
reached the castle gates when the opening in the sky was
again obscured, a clap of thunder immediately succeeded
a blinding flash of lightning, and a deluge of rain swept
down on castle, meadow, and wood.

They saw Mac Corish stand for a moment with his fea-
tures convulsed by fury, then rush into the hall, appear
again with his sheathed sword in his hand, enter the stable,
bring out his favourite steed, mount, draw his sword, and
spur out across the drawbridge as if pursuing his deadly
foe. Some ran up to the battlements of the surrounding
walls, and some to the summits of the corner towers, and
thence they could see their master ride to and fro through
the meadow, his hat olf, his clothes in disorder, his sword
as it were cutting and wounding the air in wild sweeps,

THE LEGEND OF MAC CORISH. 227

and cries and threats issuing from liis lips, as with his
furious features turned upwards he seemed defying the
powers of the air. While they gazed, terror-stricken, they
saw on a sudden the horse running violently in the direc-
tion of the river, Mac Corish appearing to make some in-
effectual efforts to stop and turn him. He plunged into
the turbid water, carrying his rider with him, and they
looked no more. All left the castle at once, and hastened
to the spot, many of them shouting out their wayward
master's name in grief and terror, but no appearance of
horse or rider could be seen. They unceasingly dragged
the water the rest of that day, and part of the next, till
about noon one party found their net stayed by some ob-
struction. They heaved it to land, but instead of horse or
man, they dragged ashore the rude iron image before men-
tioned. It was brought to the castle, where its presence
caused no small awe ; and there it has since remained, a
monument of the awful result of irreligion and unchecked
passion.

Those readers who fancy that they have obtained but few grains «if
wheat in this our bushel of chaflF, and find their desire for sound his-
torical food not so much gratified, as excited, are referred to the
healthy refection prepared for them in Eugene O'Curry's " Materials
for Irish History," Mrs. Ferguson's "Story of the Irish before the
Conquest," and the carefully compiled and excellent histories prepa-
red by Sister M. F. Cusack, A. M. Sullivan, and Martin Haverty.
The Irish MSS. dispersed through the various European libraries
being edited and translated in the course of the coming century, a
second Macaulay, as gifted as the first, but less prejudiced, will issue
in [971 and the four succeeding years, that history of our coimtry,
which will remain the standard record till the visitation of the terrible
Fijian or New Zealander, of whom the world is sufficiently wearied,

[ ^29 ]

GLOSSARY.

Athassel : ath isiol, ath isiul in the text ; secret ford, hence ford of
treachery.

BANaoR, Beinnchor : pinnacles or pointed crags.

Caileach : cailleach (caille, a veil, a cowl), an old woman, a nun.

Cathach {cath, battle) : copy of a portion of the Scripture in the
handwriting of St. Colum-Cille, mentioned in the text. When
carried by a sinless person round the camp of Clann Conaill before
an engagement, it was supposed to ensure their victory.

Ceash Corain : correctly Ceis Corran, wicker causeway of the reaping
hooks ; ceis corranach, crooked causeway. Ceash is a cross. Irish
names in which the sound kish is heard mark localities where boggy
passes were traversed on a layer of boughs and twigs.

Claen : squint-eyed. Congal, the ungrateful foster-son of the good
king Donall, was subject to this infirmity, till the eye affected was
knocked out by king Suivne's chessman.

Clonmacnois : the meadow of the sons of Nos, a personage mentioned
in the Chronicles.

COBHTHACH : victorious, now represented by the family name Coffey.

Cruachan : a stack, a round hill ; the ancient royal fortress of Conacbt,
present name Rather oghan.

CuRADH : companion, i.e., knight-companion. How did enecht, German
for servant-man, come to have the same noble meaning ?

DlARiluiDH {dearmad, forgetfulness). The word appears aU through
the text as it is commonly pronounced, but in Irish composition the
correct spelling is Diarraidd or Dlarmaid.

Drogheda : Drochad or droichiod-atha, the bridge at (or over) the ford.

Emania {Eo, brooch ; Muin, neck); the royal fortress of Ulster. For
the selection of the name see text, — " How Emania was buUt."

FiNGLAS (Fionn, fair : Glaise [pr, glasha] a stream) ; clear stream.

Gaisca, Gaisgeach ; a hero, a term much affected by fireside story-
tellers.

GORT : a garden or tilled field : gurtheen is the diminutive. Guair^\s
residence was called Qort-innsi-Guaire, "The field of the isle of
Guair^."

Grainne {Grian, the Sun). Grian being of the feminine gender in
the Celtic as well as the Teutonic languages, the name was probably
appropriated to the Gaelic princess as implying her irresistible and
transcendent beauty. Various oblong enclosures throughout Ire-
land, marked out by upright stones, are called by the peasants,
Leapachci Diarmvda agus Ghrainne, " Beds of Diarmuidh and
Grainne,"

230 GLOSSARY.

Ht Breasil {lath, Island ; Breasamhuil pr. nearly as breasuil — prince-
ly). Breas (prince) will be found in the second historical legend
of the work. The Danish £[y corresponds with lath.

Inis Cuileann (correctly Cuilin) : island of the Holly.

KiLLARNEY, Cill Aimeoclh : Church of the Sloes. The ancient name
was Loch Leane, the " Lake of Lean" of the White Teeth, a skil-
ful artizan having his dwelling by that Elysian water.

Knocklong, Cnoc Luinghe; hill of the encampment, the spot selected
by Cormac to set up the standard of Leath Cuinn when he invaded
Munster. When Mocha Euith was about to piit an end to the
drought he bade Ceanvar (correctly Ceann Mhor, great head) to
bring him his spear. This he darted into the air, and Ceanvar
digging at the point where it fell, out gushed the first stream of
relief. Dr. P. W. Joyce visited this well some time since. He
says of it; — " It lies on the road side in the townland of Glenbro-
hane near the boundary of the parish of Emlygrennan, three miles
to the south of Knocklong ; and it springs from a chasm evidently
artificial, dug in the side of SHevereagh, forming at once a very fine
stream. It is still well known in the district by the name of Tobar
Canvore, ' Canvore's well,' as I found by a very careful inquiry ; so
that Canvore has received his reward." Irish Names of Places,
1st ed., p. 95.

Laoch : a hero, Oglach, military retainer {Og and Laoch) ; Galloglach,
a foreign soldier, a mercenary.

Leacha Raidhne or Raithneach, the stones among the fern.

Leath (correctly Liath) Druim : the Grey Hill- Ridge, the ancient
name of Tara.

Lios, pr. lish : a fort consisting of an earthen mound with ditches, as
distinguished from a caiseal or stone fortification ; the word DUN
includes both kinds of strongholds.

Mayo, Magh Eo : plain of the yew trees.

Moyle : sea stream of ; that part of the sea w^hich lies between Ire-
land and Scotland. It has its name from the Mull {mullach, mound)
of Cantyre ; ceann tir, headland.

Naas, Nas : fair or place of public meeting.

Newry, Ihar Cian Trachta, more correctly lubhar Cinn Tragha :
" the yew at the head of the strand." The planting of this yew is
attributed to St. Patrick. The present name is a modification of
An Jubhar, pr. an yure, the article an (the) being sometimes pre-
fixed to proper names in old books. Rathnure, in the parish of
Killanne, Co. Wexford, means the ' ' Fort of the Yew Trees."

Sighe or Sidhe : a fairy, a spiritualized Danaan. The word in some
instances denotes the hill-caverns, or rather palaces, in which they
reside. A sighe-gaoithe (pr. shia geha) is a fairy blast, a whirlwind.
^heeoge is the name applied in Leinster to these wayward spirits.

Sliochd : race, lineage, stem. The Argyll family call themselves
An Sliochd nan Diannaicl.

Tara. Legendary derivation : Teamur, the wall or building of Tea,
wife of Heremon. " Teamhair, pr. Tawer (we quote Dr. Joyce),

GLOSSARY. 231

signifies an elevated spot commanding an extensive prospect. The
teamhair of a house is a balcony, and the teamhair of a country, a
hill commanding a wide view. The genitive of teamhair is teamk-
rach (pr. taragh or towragh), and it is this form which has given
its present name to Tara in Meath."
Cladh : a tomb or penitential station, the ancient name of- Ulster.

We would here gladly enlarge on the merits of Dr. Joyce's ad-
Dodrable work on the derivations of Irish local names, but for the
very great probability that his book is in the hands of every one
whom this little attempt of ours may reach.

THE FIRESIDE STOEIES OF IRELAND, Is. 6d.

The Art Journal.

" We can recommend these tales to the firesides of our friends. Mr. Kennedy
has been an indefatigable labourer in Irish literature, and deserves -well of his
country."

The Athenceum.

" Mr. Kennedy is widely known as the collector, preserver, and publisher of
stories, which have amused half the world, but which would die out of memory
unless committed to type. In this work he renders good seiwice to his country
and to literature generally. . . . The traditions of many nations are in this
modest little volume, wliich has a value far above that of a mere story book.
"Were it only the lattei, its merit would stUl secure for it public approval."

The South London Press.

(Notice written by P. T. Dillon Ceokek, Esq., son of the late Thomas Ceofto:

Crokke, Esq.)

"In this little volume of folk and faiiy lore, we have a valuable addition to

The Legends of Ireland by Crofton Croker, and other writers. We are grateful to

Mr. Kennedy for their pubUcation in their present form."

The Nation.

" Mr. Kennedy deserves the cordial gratitude of the people, young and old, for
having seized and preserved these Fireside Stories at the moment when they were
fast fading from popular memory. No one has laboured so kindly and lovingly
as he, to preserve the popular fo''k-lore to the people. We hope the little volume
will receive a warm welcome from all who regard with kindly interest the quaint
memories of our land."

The Evening Mail.

" It must be a matter of congratulation to all lovers of antiquity that the
ample materials of Irish fiction and tradition have fallen into the hands of a
writer so capable of re-producing them in their purest and most unsophisticated
style. Mr. Kennedy sustains with unabated vigour his character as a compiler
of ancient hterary lore. As an agreeable humourist and Irish story -teller he is
unrivalled."

The Freeman.

" The stories are told as a peasant would teU them at his own fireside, with
quaint turns, provoking drollery, charming redundancy, and touching na'iviti.
We laugh at their humour, and love their simplicity. Mr. Kennedy has done our
people service, and himself honour, in the composition of these stories. We have
laughed more over this work than over Handy Andy, et hoc genus omne."

Samvders's News Lette)'.

" These stories related in the ipsissima Verba, in which we heard them long
ago, illustrate the strategy in word or action, by which the simple-minded outwit
the clever, the good conquer the evil ; and many of them contain sound moral
lessons. We strongly recommend them to those who look with pleasure on the
memories of their youth, and would wish to recal them."

The Munster News.

" It is a great merit in an entertaining book of this kind, that while the inci-
dents are related with great spirit and 7iaiv6t6, nothing is admitted unsuitable
for the perusal of either sex.

"There is no little learning crushed into the few concluding pages, which trace
several of the tales in their wanderings through the various literatures of the
Aryan peoples."

m^^^^^---

liy the same Writ'

THE FIRESIDE STORIES UP IRELAND.

Is. 6d. 1870.

EVENINGS IN THE DUFFREY.

Tin: BANKS OF THE BOR<'

29. 6d. 18G7.
'lid .tize mth the )>/ ■

LEl.l, ''\r I'PTloNS OF THE IRISH i..

. llusstiatioii.-. cloth, 5s. 186ti.

REVIEW OF THE OSSIANIC SOCIETY'S YOLTOES

OctftTO, wrapper, Is. 1859.

LEGENDS OF MOUNT LEINSTER.

Foolscap Octavo, cloth, 2s. Gd. 1855.

Ucpnlil isked by Patrick Kenmdy :

MI!S LEADBEATER'S COTTAGE DIALOGri
\MONG THE IRISH PEASANTRY.

In Tliiw Itirtti , Ch-t. third pa/t no■\v^''or the first time luibli-
Fodlsoap Octaro. wmpiK-r, Is. ; by post, Is. 2d.